Of Past and Present
by Tuesday The First
Summary: AU. To embrace the present, Quinn has to first release her past.
1. Chapter I

_Summary: To embrace the present, Quinn has to first release her past. But she can't do it alone. QuinnBrittany._  
_Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, but my mind is._  
_AN: An AU Futurefic. It toggles between Quinn's present and past a few times but you'll catch when it does._ _It'll change from T to M once later chapters hit._  
_Read it, review it, favourite, alert it but most of all, enjoy it._

**Of Past and Present**

**Chapter I  
**

Quinn stood in the wings as she watched the final number of the show go on. Music flared up all around, soaring high into the rigs above. Rachel's voice, clear as a summer's day, lifted along with it. The singing of the chorus underneath helped push it higher and higher.

It gave Quinn chills when she reached her final note. It out lasted the hanging buzz of the trumpet and echoed in the hallowed halls like a scream from a mountaintop. She had heard Rachel's voice for years, listened to her belt out everything from Britney Spears to Kristen Chenoweth. It never failed to amaze Quinn how easily it came from her. Like breathing.

The company fell into their ending poses and the grand drape closed while the few people who were a part of putting the show together applauded in the audience. It soon faded and the director's voice cut in demanding the curtain be lifted.

The actors and dancers relaxed from their poses as it lifted. Jesse St. James yelled for house lights and for the cast to take a seat for notes.

"That means you too, tech," Quinn said into her headset. She heard the technicians in the sound and light booth complaining about having to walk all the way down from their post to listen to Jesse berate a cast that was more then phenomenal.

"Then you have my notes after." Quinn added. She grinned hearing them groan more as she took the headset off.

She hurried out of the wings, motioning for the rest of her tech team to follow her. She found Rachel near the back and she ran up to stand next to her.

"How was it?" Rachel asked without moving her lips. She wouldn't take a chance at getting scolded by the director who also happened to be her boyfriend.

Quinn raised her eyebrows and teetered her head from right to left slightly. "You were a little flat on the last note."

Rachel made a sound in her throat. "I was not!" She hissed through her teeth.

Quinn brought her hand up, scratching her nose to hide her smirk. "You were amazing, Rach. As always."

Rachel looked down at her costume, fingering a button to disguise her grin. "And everything else?"

"Relax," Quinn reached up to rub the nap of her neck but subtly touched Rachel's elbow for reassurance on the way up. "We're more than ready for opening night tomorrow."

They chanced a glance at each other, lips tugging in the corners to show smiles. Just as quick as they looked at each other, their attention was back on Jesse who was now addressing the dancers. Quinn tensed at his choice in words as he expressed his dissatisfaction with one of the numbers.

It pained her to see their pale faces downcast in shame. She had seen what happened and it wasn't their fault. A set piece had been placed off its mark, and before she could snap at someone to fix it, the curtain flew up and the number began. A dancer got confused at the off placement and it got the entire company off for all but three beats but nothing escaped Jesse's keen eyes.

Quinn's eyes flashed over to the choreographer. She frowned to him owning up to her mistake and he nodded in understanding. He wasn't going to rat her out. It had only happened once, and things like that never happened when Quinn was the stage manager. Until now. He gave her a reassuring smile and she echoed it in thanks. Mike Chang was a nice guy. He took Jesse's blow without a bat of a lash.

Jesse's notes were then directed at all of tech and Quinn swallowed everything. Some light cues were a millisecond off and he caught the foot of one of the crew walking off stage when the curtains were opening. She nodded and shook her head and spoke up at the appropriate places. She knew how to speak with Jesse. Being her roommate's boyfriend gave her some insight into him, but that didn't mean she understood him completely. She couldn't even understand why Rachel was with him.

"Out of my theatre!" Was his last statement after he gave them two sentences of good parts in the performance.

Everyone got up from the floor and dispersed to dressing rooms, prop tables, booths, and wings.

Rachel saw Quinn's tight face and touched her shoulder. "He really thinks the show is amazing." Rachel assured her. "He's stressed because tomorrow's opening, that's all."

"Does this mean rounds of stressful, angry sex for you tonight?" Quinn teased to release the tension. She did like Jesse, she had to like him for Rachel's sake, but he rubbed her the wrong way when he opened his critical mouth sometimes.

Rachel smacked her shoulder playfully. "It wouldn't make a difference."

"It's worth a try," Quinn turned away from her to see Mike across the way waiting for her attention.

"If you can handle being alone in your apartment without me for a night, I will try and take care of Jesse's stress for your and the cast's sake."

"I was alone in the apartment for half a year before you came in claiming half of it as yours."

"You missed me," Rachel smiled.

Quinn bit her lip, blinking away. "More and more everyday."

They shared a moment of nostalgia. High school days and days in the Berry's, heartache, heart breaks and short spats of love and love lost. They shared a past that made them more than friends or roommates but more like sisters. That half of year without Rachel left Quinn aching. It sounded selfish of her to be glad that New York hadn't worked out for her because she was back with her. But without Rachel was like life without her other half.

"Ugh," Rachel lifted her costume from her body. "I'm going to change. Do you want to come with me and Jesse for drinks tonight so you won't have to spend the entire night by yourself?"

Quinn shook her head. "You go on ahead. I'll see you at the theatre tomorrow." Rachel hugged her neck and walked away.

Quinn watched her retreating form sadly. It was only a matter of time before St. James would sweep her off her feet and asked her to marry him. It would be a bittersweet moment for Quinn.

With Rachel gone, Mike came up to her and she groaned. "Mike," He bit his lip, head shaking. "I'm sorry to get your dancers in trouble. It's my fault for not getting there in time."

He squeezed her shoulder tenderly. "Don't worry about it." He assured her again. "Are you going to be here a while? Some of the dancers wanna stay back and practice a bit. I know it's late but-"

"To make up for getting yelled out, I'd be glad to stay. I need to make sure everything is spiked right and all the props are back in their places anyway so it's fine." He raised an eyebrow questioning if she was serious. "It's my apology to you."

"Thanks Quinn. I'd stay but I've got to get to Tina's."

"Go on and be with your wife, Mike." She grinned giving him a pat on the back.

She had known Mike all of three months during the preparation for the show and she had grown close to him. She knew many things about him and his life and how he became a choreographer. She had met his new wife, Tina, one night when he invited her and Rachel out. They were a beautiful couple at both heart and physique. It made their marriage all the more sweet knowing they were high school sweethearts.

"Thanks again,"

She gave him a terse nod and turned back to the set. She walked over to where the spike tape was for the piece that had been out of place. There was the problem. The tape had been scuffed off.

Digging into her pocket, she pulled out a roll of yellow tape and bent over to put the marks down again. She knew whose fault it had been but she wouldn't punish him for it. Sam Evans was already nervous enough being new to the tech business fresh out of high school. He was a sweet boy, a little dopey at times, but sweet and hated making a mistake. She'd let this one slide since it hadn't happened before.

Once she was done, she ordered her team to reset the stage for the opening act. It took them no time to shuffle pieces off into the wings and pull others on. She helped them broom off the dust from the stage and wipe up the sweat.

When they were done, a handful of dancers came out onto the stage to run through numbers while the pianist played their set. Quinn stood back, her arms over her chest watching them.

The musical was modern with tons of dancing of various styles and rhythms for the dancers and the acting cast as well. She had stage-managed many shows, but this one was the most energetic and kept every team on its toes. Luckily, having Jesse as the director, everyone a part of it was quality. He wanted the best of the best and nothing less.

When Rachel told her that Jesse wanted her help on set design and to be his stage manager, she had flipped. She didn't think she was that good at coming up with sets, but obviously Jesse did and she jumped to it. It built her credibility, got her name out there. It also got Rachel's name out there and maybe they'd be able to shoot out to Broadway together.

That thought was short lived when Quinn remembered how tied to Jesse that Rachel was. She tried not to think of it, but in the back of her mind, the time ticked away.

Music blared from a boom box on the stage and the dancers changed to the hip-hop number. Quinn didn't pay much attention to them when they performed during the show. Her eyes were usually on Rachel serving as her critic, and when her roommate wasn't on stage, they were chatting in the wings.

So she watched.

Mike had not done an amateur job at choreographing. Saying that was an insult. He had been the best one Quinn had seen in all the shows she worked with. But did she expect anything less coming from St. James? Watching the flawless dancing in front of her made her feel guilty all over again for having them yelled at. She'd stay as long as they needed her to say for it.

"See ya, Quinn!" Shouted one of her stagehand. She waved to him as he went. Others bid their farewells and invited her out for the night and asked if there was anything more that they needed to do.

She waved her hand and let them all go. They knew what Jesse had yelled about had been their fault but she was letting them off. There wasn't a need to start screaming at them the night before the show when they were already so beat.

She pulled away from watching the ensemble and went farther back stage. Two by Fours and planks and boards and paint and tools were scattered from having to rebuild a set piece that had broken that morning. Fortunately, they got it back together and good before rehearsal.

Bending over, Quinn lifted a large slab of wood and propped it up against the wall. She blew off the sawdust getting it all on her face and in her hair. Grabbing a couple buckets of paint and some brushes, she stared at the blank wood for a moment then began to paint to the beat of the music in the background.

If anyone knew Quinn in high school and saw her now, they'd be baffled at what her profession was. Quinn Fabray had not an artistic bone in her body that didn't have to do with cheering, but there she was building sets and painting free hand. It was something Rachel had gotten her into, believe it or not, and it had served the very purpose Rachel wanted it to. A release.

It was sophomore year and Quinn had just moved into the Berry household. She was a complete wreck. Her family had forced her out of home and she had lived in a shelter for a few weeks until Rachel found out and told her to live with her. It was nice. Rachel's dads were more parents than her own, but she was still troubled with what had happened and the child that was growing in her stomach.

Rachel told her she needed a way to vent because Quinn hardly spoke. Her entire pregnancy, she would barley speak a few sentences. The guilt and the shame and the pressure and the worthlessness that her parents had left her with feeling for her mistake rendered her near mute.

One evening, Rachel came back late from her ballet lesson and handed Quinn a box of paints and a giant sketchbook.

"You need to get all if it out, Quinn, or one day it's going to explode at the most inconvenient time and you won't feel any better because you just let it stew and never dealt with it. So here." She opened each paint and propped up the book against her wall and sat Quinn on the floor in front of it. "Paint what you feel."

"That's stupid, Rach," She said dryly.

"Just try," Rachel placed a paintbrush in her hand. "Please, Quinn? Just try."

They sat on her floor for an hour and Quinn had only splattered random colors onto the paper. Rachel left to help her dads make dinner and Quinn let her frustration with not being able to put anything on the paper out. She threw colors at it, stabbed her paintbrushes at it. She dropped her brushes and smeared it around with her fingers.

When Rachel came in to get her for dinner, Quinn's hands were messy with paint and her face was speckled with color. Rachel looked away from Quinn's embarrassed face and looked at the canvas of untamed strokes and dripping colors and smiled.

"It's a start,"

And it was.

Quinn was in her own world. She dragged the thick paintbrush across the board, spreading orange against the brown wood. She didn't know what she was painting just like she didn't know what she was doing the first time she had wielded a brush. She just went by heart. She put her sorry for Mike's dancers on the board and her anxiety about opening night. She sketched in her sadness for Rachel's pending leave and her happiness that her best friend was pursing a good life.

Other things came to mind as she switched colors. Bills she needed to pay and other projects she needed to get done. Forgetful Sam and loud-mouthed Jesse. How lonely and quiet her apartment would be without Rachel's voice to fill it up and that it would be like that soon for as long as Quinn had no one else to fill it up again.

She came off the high and stepped back to observe her work. So many colors so many directions. There was no real picture but that didn't matter to Quinn. It spoke her heart and her mind so, to her, it was a masterpiece.

Her admiration at her own artwork was interrupted when there was a crash from the stage. Tossing down her brushes, Quinn trotted up through the wings and to downstage where she found a lone dancer hurrying to pick up a cluster of chairs that she had knocked over.

She caught sight of Quinn and her eyes widened in apology. "I'm sorry," She said in an airy voice as she picked up the last two. Quinn rushed over to make sure none of the paint had been chipped. Maybe the audience wouldn't see it, but Jesse would.

"They usually aren't here in the number I was practicing." She laughed nervously at Quinn's back. "I got carried away."

Wiping her paint stained hands on her jeans, Quinn ran her fingers along the backs of each chair to find the smallest mistake. They seemed fine except for one that was scuffed along the leg. It was a quick fix. She marked the chair with a sharpie to remember to do it the next day.

"Sorry," The dancer said again.

Quinn finally turned to look at her. She was standing only a few feet away from her, her tall height noticeable even at their distance. She had bright blue eyes and corn silk hair that was matted to her forehead and her neck. She was only in a sports bra and sweatpants so that the sweat glistening skin of her arms, chest, and stomach was exposed. Quinn's eyes flashed over her entirety before returning to her face. She knew this dancer. She knew her name. Mike had said something about her before but…

"It's fine," She waved a hand in the air. The girl still looked concerned so Quinn smiled and it was echoed. Quinn looked around them noticing for the first time that they were the only two left in the theatre. "You're by yourself?"

"Yeah," Her voice was so breathy and easy. "I like to dance." Quinn nodded.

The blonde's eyes did a sweep of her from head to toe then back up. It made her self-conscious because she knew she didn't look at all good. Paint was under her nails, in her hair, on her face, and on her clothes. She hadn't cared to dress in anything but a pair of jeans and a tank top. The cloth was sticking to her damp skin having worked up a sweat running back and forth backstage a few times.

Once, she had to bolt to Rachel's dressing room to grab a prop right before she stepped back on stage. It was a thrilling night, but it left her looking worse in the end. Not that she had anyone to impress.

No one to impress. That weighed on her heavier than it should.

"You're all dirty," The dancer stated after a beat of silence. The music playing from the boom box had ended just seconds before she spoke.

"Paint's dirty," Quinn shrugged.

The girl's head titled to the side slightly. "What were you painting?"

"I was, uh," She scratched the base of her neck in nervous habit. She felt paint get smudge on the skin there. Her shower would be a long and thorough one when she got home. "Nothing really,"

The blonde seemed to sense her apprehension and smirked. "Your sets are really nice." Quinn watched the dancer turn from her to look at what was on stage.

It was a cityscape. She had constructed the heart of a city with buildings that could be entered, light posts that could be turned on and off and much more. Rachel had pointed out to her once that Quinn had a sense of realism in her sets. Instead of a nice looking, wash building; Quinn faded some of the bricks to give it age. Instead of shining lamppost, she sandpapered the poles to make them look weathered and added a touch of rust.

"It really looks like a city." The dancer moved to a building, a coffee shop that had a window to see in. Behind it were real tables and chairs. "Like you picked the buildings off the street and put them in here."

"It would be easier than rebuilding them." She laughed breathlessly.

She watched the dancer closely. She watched her touch the set and marvel at it. It made Quinn uneasy but not as uneasy as she felt when she and the dancer were standing in front of the board she had just scribbled on. She was just walking away to leave the blonde checking out her set, but once she walked away, she was on her heels. Quinn didn't have the heart to ask what she was doing and to not follow her.

No one but Rachel had seen her paintings like the one she had just done. It made her fell raw and open, like this girl was getting a glimpse into her soul and into her mind. Quinn shuddered at the thought of the dancer prancing around in her mind like a museum and analyzing her life. It made her stomach churn imagining her taking a turn on the restricted area of her mind and staring at the parts that she had locked away.

"Uh," Quinn said quickly to distract her, but her eyes were still looking at it. She had her head titled like she was trying to gather the meaning but the colors were making her confused. "I've go to lock up the theatre."

"I'll help you," She offered so Quinn let her. Well, she let her follow her while she shut and locked dressing rooms and hit out all the lights.

Coming back through the theatre, she grabbed up her satchel before turning off the house lights and left locking the main theatre doors.

They were standing outside on a sticky, early summer night. It made Quinn feel dirtier and like the paint was melting and oozing down her skin. She pushed her hair from her forehead. More paint on her skin.

She turned to the dancer who was bent down rolling up her sweatpants leg. Quinn studied the way the hard bones in her spine poked from her skin and her muscles tensed and unclenched beneath it. Her eyes drifted down catching blue ones and she turned away flushing at being caught. She didn't seem to mind and only grinned.

"Your name's Quinn, right?" She asked, eyebrow arching. Quinn nodded. "I'm Brittany,"

Brittany. Everything came back to her. Mike had pointed her out to her one rehearsal and bragged about her on their night out. She and Mike had been roommates, inseparable since the day they were put together as dance partners in the first grade. The way he talked about her was she would talk about Rachel. Like their bond was more than simply friends. They were siblings nearly.

When she asked why Brittany hadn't joined them, he told her she was out dancing. That she was always dancing. Whether it was practicing for the show or out at a club gyrating to the beat, Quinn didn't know. All she knew was that Brittany always danced.

"Hi Brittany," Quinn holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Brittany laughed lightly, it just as breathy as her voice. "You too, Quinn," Brittany slipped her hand into hers and Quinn was surprised to find them cold despite the heat.

She shook it a couple times looking up at Brittany while her gaze was on their hands clasped between them. The handshake was getting too long but Quinn saw Brittany's brow begin to furrow like she had just been struck with something odd or disheartening. Quinn loosened her grip and Brittany did too, feeling a strange disconnect when their hands parted.

She felt her expression fall to match the same one that Brittany had on her face moments ago. Now Brittany was smiling at her, an all too knowing smile like she had just gotten a memory of Quinn from long ago and was dying to remind her of it.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Quinn put her hand in her pocket. It felt odd and tingly and cold.

Brittany's smile turned crooked and her eyes batted and softened more than they already were. "Goodnight, Quinn,"

Quinn sucked in a breath when Brittany spoke her name in the airlessness that was her voice. She walked away from her feeling slightly off put but not in a bad way but in a way that would make her night one filled with more splattering paint and dirty jeans.

-/-/-/-

The apartment was dark and still when Quinn got home. She flicked on the light illuminating the short entrance way. Directly across was a large window draped with curtains that Rachel thought would look nice against the pale yellow walls. Beneath it was a dining booth for four. To her right was the threshold to the small kitchen and to the left was a small sitting area with couch and a TV. Their rooms were on the other side of the kitchen along with the bathroom.

Quinn remembered when she first walked into the apartment right out of high school. It was so drab and boring and she hated the pale purple walls. She asked the landlord if she could paint them and told them she was a phenomenal painter, but they said no. She had painted one wall white anyway just to have some sort of accent.

When Rachel showed up half a year later, she spruced the place up. She teased Quinn for being the creative person she was and not being able to make the apartment look any better than it was. Quinn reasoned with her that if the landlord had let her paint, it would've come together.

They spent Rachel's first few days getting décor, curtains and a new couch and TV. Rachel made her bedroom into an acceptable living quarters and the bathroom a place that didn't give someone the feeling like they were bathing in a quarantine chamber.

It was home. It was their home. The best part about it, though, wasn't Rachel's decorating, but Rachel's scent filling the place up. It was something that brought Quinn so much comfort and peace. When she wrapped her arms around Rachel the day she showed up, all anxiety about getting a job to pay rent and what to do about college floated away.

That was three and a half years ago and Quinn still found herself standing in their dining area, eyes closed and breathing in. Rachel's floral scent mixed in perfectly with Quinn's vanilla one. She was at peace.

She tossed her bag onto the dining table and went to her room. She had gotten rid of her bed frame, against Rachel's request, and only had a mattress shoved in the corner. It took a month to convince her roommate that it left her more room for her art supplies and multiple canvases. A bed frame wasn't needed anyway. She had a desk and a dresser and TV stand void of a TV but topped with papers to make up for it.

Not wasting time, Quinn slid off her jeans and tossed her shirt into the dirty pile by her door. She needed to do laundry. Finding a new change of clothes in her drawer, she skipped off to the shower.

When she found herself standing in her room at four in the morning splattered with paints once again, she wondered why she had even taken the shower. She had given herself the benefit of the doubt and thought she'd be able to sleep through the night alone. And she usually could

Something about the night had made her restless and wishing Rachel was there so she could discuss it with her. Quinn couldn't calm her racing mind and her body was tense. There were knots in her stomach as she started to think about the show and everything that needed to get done before the curtain opened.

Quinn ended up painting her woes until she couldn't any longer and she fell asleep surrounded by wet brushes and paint fumes.

-/-/-/-

"Quinn," Someone called out to her from the outer realm of her dreams. "Quinnie, it's time to wake up." Something cold and wet was touching her face. She opened her eyes. "Get up. Are you planning on sleeping the entire day?"

Quinn sat up slowly, her hand coming up to run across her face. She dragged her fingers slick across her cheek. "Rachel!" She scolded when she realized that it was paint cold and wet on her face.

Rachel waved the brush teasingly in front of her. "You're already covered in it." She tossed it aside to join the rest.

Her eyes looked over the room now a mess. Quinn saw her purse her lips when she saw the paint on the walls. She'd be scrubbing for days.

"Did something happen last night or were you feeling exceptionally creative and destructive? Quinn, look at the wall."

"I'll clean it," She rolled her eyes. "Nothing happened last night."

"Is that so?"

Quinn followed Rachel's gaze to her canvas. It had four colors on it: Pink, brown, yellow and pale blue. The pink and brown were swirled with one another and tracing it was the yellow. The pale blue wasn't touching any of the other colors, but was strewn across the canvas at random like its purpose there was unknown.

Quinn watched Rachel as she picked out the colors she knew. Pink had become Rachel's color since it was her favorite and Quinn had picked brown for Jesse because, for one, Rachel hated it because it reminded her of dirty things but also because brown seemed to go with him. Yellow was Quinn but it hadn't always been. If she had to reach back into her past, she had been every color, and some, on the color wheel. This bright yellow she had Rachel to thank for.

Pale blue was left.

Rachel's finger lifted to the random marks of the color. "Who's that?" She asked.

"No one," Quinn answered quickly.

She honestly didn't remember at the moment but as her mind started to wake completely, her thoughts from the night started to ease back into her head. She scratched the nap of her neck. The action didn't go unnoticed by Rachel.

"No one important," She corrected.

"Important enough to be on a board with me, you and Jesse." Her eyes narrowed at Quinn and her mouth pulled back in a devilish grin that she didn't like. "Did you meet someone last night and you're not telling me? That is far from fair, Quinn. I want to know who he is."

"What? No. I didn't meet anyone last night." Another scratch and Rachel's grin deepened. _Got'ya._ "No one new," she sighed and pushed backwards on the floor to sit on her mattress. Rachel stayed sitting where she was. "One of the dancer's stayed back late last night and we talked."

"Oh," Rachel's expression faltered.

She wasn't on all of the dancer's good sides because Rachel had a problem with keeping her mouth shut and not voicing her opinions. She got into a heated argument with a few of them about their technique in a ballet number once and Quinn had to apologize to them and Mike for it. Surprisingly, that was the same day he had invited them out.

"Name?"

"The one Mike was talking about that one night. Brittany," Speaking her name brought her face to Quinn's mind. She wasn't one Rachel had gotten hot with.

"Brittany?" She chewed on her lip. "Oh! The tall blonde one. She is walking talent. Did you know she teaches dance down at that studio a couple blocks away from the theatre by the coffee shop we liked to go and get frappacino's at sometimes after class? Yeah," Rachel didn't even wait for her to reply. "I was passing by coming from shopping and saw her. She's got enough talent to open her own studio if she wanted to."

"Probably," Quinn shrugged, leaning back against the wall. Her eyes traveled back to her canvas as she thought about the girl. She hadn't paid attention to her during the show. Maybe a few times, but not enough to see how good she was.

"So," Rachel flicked her foot with a finger. "Why pale blue?"

She shrugged. "It's what I felt,"

"What did you talk about?"

"Nothing," It was an honest answer. Apologies and saying that they liked to do the things it was obvious they liked doing was not truly talking.

Rachel furrowed her brow confused. "Then why did you paint her?"

"I don't know," She shrugged again. She concentrated hard to not succumb to the habit that would give away how uneasy she was starting to feel. "She was the last thing on my mind, I guess. She gave me this weird vibe."

"A baby blue vibe?"

"Apparently," Quinn deadpanned at her roommate's sarcasm.

"And me and Jesse?"

"The same," Silence fell between them like it always did when the subject came up.

Before, when they joked about Rachel getting engaged and having tons of kids, it left them laughing. When Rachel told Quinn that Jesse was starting to show signs and talking about things like _their _future and _their _dreams, it changed the dynamic. It was hard for Rachel too and because it was it made it even harder for Quinn.

When had she become so emotionally dependent on her best friend? It was almost sickening to know she was. She was twenty-two years old. She was big enough to be alone and take care of herself.

"Jesse only lives twenty minutes away."

"He doesn't want to stay here, Rach," Quinn felt the atmosphere shift. She didn't want to put a damper on the day so early on. "The first call he gets from New York, he's out of here and you'll be going with him."

"We don't know that for sure," Rachel tried. "And you're probably going to go, too. Broadway would be spectacular with your sets on their stages."

Quinn offered her a weak smile not wanting to say anything more that would put them both in unsettled moods, especially on opening night. Her cheeks relaxed and she felt the harden tug of paint on her cheek and she groaned. She loved taking showers but another one so soon was a bit much.

She caught Rachel staring at her painting again. Why was Rachel home? "Why are you home?"

"Quinn, it's nearly two in the afternoon," Rachel nodded over to the clock. "Jesse had things to do before the show and I had to come and make sure you weren't curled up in my bed, clinging onto my pillow because you can't be without me for two minutes without freaking out."

"Don't flatter yourself," Quinn scoffed but her insides had constricted and her heart had lifted into her throat.

"Oh, I'm not," Rachel stood up from the floor, smoothing out the bottom of her skirt. "That's what my fans are for. Now, get your butt out of bed, take a shower, and treat me to lunch to celebrate my first, big roll in three years."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "As long as you pay for my dessert."

"What kind of date are you?" Rachel extended her hand down to her.

"One you love enough to give at least that much because she has worked just as hard on the show as you."

"When you put it that way," Her fingers wrapped around Quinn's hand. "I suppose I can this once. But first," Rachel yanked her up to stand. "You need to clean all of this up."

"Right away, mother," Quinn quipped as Rachel skipped out of her room.

As she scrubbed at a large glob of paint on the wall, Quinn wondered if Rachel, with all of her teasing, really knew how much she leaned on her. If so, maybe it was her way of trying to show Quinn how much she needed so stand on her own because, someday, she would be gone.

_Til Next Chapter_


	2. Chapter II

_AN: I never update this soon, but the chapter was just sitting there demanding to be posted. Enjoy. _

**Chapter II  
**

"_Shoot!"_

Quinn tossed her headset to Sam and ran off to a disgruntled Rachel who had just walked off the stage. Her arms were bent behind her trying to hold up her battery pack and unzip the zipper of her dress.

"Rach," Quinn pranced over. She helped pull the dress down her hips and let it fall to the floor.

"Where were you?" Rachel hissed kicking the dress to the side. She slid her legs into a pair of pants and let Quinn wiggle them up.

Quinn got her button done and started to lace a belt though the loops. "Yelling at the person who cut your change time down by half a minute because they hit the light cue too early."

Rachel fluffed her hair back out and puckered her lips for lipstick to be reapplied. "This is terrible, Quinn. It's going horrible. Did you hear our duet out there? The orchestra was off and the pitch was sharp through the entire thing, and Thoms just kept going on and on like he couldn't hear a thing."

The costumer glanced at Quinn worried and she waved her off. She could finish the job and calm their lead down. "You're being dramatic." She said in an easy voice. She snaked the battery pack down her shirt and clipped it to her bra. "It was the best I've heard you two sing and Jesse kept saying how good it was in the headset."

"Really?" Rachel spun round to look at her. She nodded. "Are you lying to make me feel better, because it didn't sound good to me and I know when things are good or not."

"When you're not nervous you know when things are good or not. Relax, okay?" She squeezed Rachel's shoulders and watched her take a deep breath and let it out. She smiled. "There's no one who deserved this role more than you. This is the one that's going to put you in New York for good."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Believe it,"

"Thank you, Quinn," She grabbed her in a hug for a beat. "Oh, crap, crap, crap!"

Quinn sighed as she watched Rachel run back on stage just in time for her entrance. Going back to her post, she snatched the headset from Sam who was looking overwhelmed.

"Thanks, Sam" She whispered to him.

When she tuned back into the chatter going on in the headset, she figured out why he had looked so uncomfortable. Jesse was hissing at the lighting guys about the cue she had just fussed at them about.

Quinn pushed the button so he could hear her. "Jesse," She said calmly. If there was one thing she learned, it was to never take a tone with St. James.

"What, Fabray?" But he could.

She rolled her eyes. "I've already told them about the cue. Everything's fine. We got Rachel changed and out in time. No one noticed what happened."

"I sure as hell did," He hissed a little less venomous than he had before. "And who was that on your headset a minute ago, Q?"

She smirked at hearing him call her by her nickname. She managed to calm Rachel down and Jesse. Or maybe Rachel had held up her end and gave St. James a good enough lay to keep his boxers out of a knot.

"Sam Evans," She reminded him for the thousandth time. She heard him suck his teeth in distaste. "He's learning." He laughed sardonically and Quinn heard him click off ending their conversation.

She patted the blonde boy still standing next to her on the shoulder. She had picked him as her assistant only because he needed the experience. Three months later, she wondered if he had actually learned anything or was just taken aback by the larger dynamic of Jesse's production as appose to his high school ones.

"Good job, Sam,"

"Thanks, but," She shrugged

"I know," She smiled. "Jesse's a little hard to deal with. You did fine."

Flipping up the mic on her headset, Quinn turned her attention back to the performance. The problem with the set from the other night didn't happen and the dance went perfect. A few scenes later, it was intermission and everyone came off the stage glowing with elation.

"Fifteen until curtain!" Quinn warned.

"Thank you, fifteen!" The cast shouted back.

"Oh my God!" Rachel crashed into her. Quinn threw off her headset just in time to catch her friend in her arms. "Why did I stay away from the stage for so long?" She sighed stepping out of Quinn's arms. "Did you hear that applause?"

"It was all for you,"

"Of course," Rachel rolled her eyes teasingly. "Jesse!"

She skipped off to where Jesse had just entered backstage. He lifted her up in his strong arms and twirled her around, their lips on one another's in a sweet kiss. He lowered her back to the ground and Quinn saw his lips move telling her how good she was doing. Rachel's face lit up more than the applause had made her and Quinn looked away respectfully. If St. James made he smile that way, maybe he wasn't so bad.

Quinn left her post to run to the restroom before finding a few people from the crew and had them double check props and sweep the stage before time. Her round backstage led her back to her post where she sat to wait, fatigue starting to creep onto her. She had worked hard on the show. Doubling as stage manager and set manager was a tough job.

She rolled her shoulders, her neck titling side to side to get the kinks out. A pair of strong hands came down on her shoulders, massaging the muscle just at the base of her neck. She closed her eyes for a moment and smiled.

"Is that good?" A breathy voice asked.

Quinn jumped out of her stool almost getting whiplash at how quick she wounded around. "Brittany!" She rubbed her neck that started to ache again.

The dancer smiled, her teeth pearly white and perfect behind her pink lips. "Quinn,"

Quinn felt her face flush. "Hi,"

A crease found place in Brittany's forehead and the corners of her mouth turned down. The troubled expression looked out of place on her bright face. "Did I hurt you?" She looked down, examining her long, thin fingers. "Sometimes Mike says I do it too hard."

"No, no, it was good you," The crease smoothed out and her lips kinked back up. She knew the skin at the back of her neck was going to be red for days from scratching at it do much. "You scared me. I thought you were Rachel or…Sam."

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Huh?"

"You said it was good. Do you want me to keep going? You were really tense."

"Yeah, I know," She rolled her shoulders again remembering the press of Brittany's fingers into her skin. It was nice and it had started to relax her muscles, "But no. I'm fine,"

Brittany's eyes narrowed a fraction as they swept over her from head to toe like she did the previous night. Quinn became hyperaware of her attire. Black pants, black shoes, black top and a black ribbon holding her hair in a tight ponytail. She hadn't cared to wear much make up on since the crew didn't shake hands with the audience afterwards. She'd just be going home after. Why get dolled up?

She shifted her weight to try and draw Brittany's blue gaze back to hers but it didn't work. The movement of her eyes was slow and deliberate like she was studying something very hard. It was unnerving

"Another time, then?" Brittany asked finally making it to Quinn's face.

Quinn nodded slowly. "Another time," She agreed only to shut down the conversation and get out of Brittany's scrutiny.

The strange vibe she had gotten from the dancer before had crept back up into her gut. It wasn't a bad vibe, just different and strong. Stronger than any other vibe she'd felt from someone in a long time. The only person had been Rachel and that wasn't until she came and saved for from the woman's shelter years ago. Quinn shuddered at the memory and put an end to them before they could go deeper.

"Okay," Brittany's lips smiled but her eyes told something different.

Quinn blinked away. She flipped her wrist to see the time that was on her watch. Oops. "Five minutes!" She yelled turning away from Brittany. "Places,"

She didn't even care to excuse herself from Brittany's presence and hurried off to each room to inform the rest of the cast. Once she made it back, she saw Jesse give Rachel one last kiss then hurry away. She pulled on her headset and pushed it on to make sure the others were ready.

Rachel came up next to her. "Ready for act two?"

"I was born ready," She smiled. "Wish me broken legs."

"Break a leg," Quinn whispered and Rachel skipped back onto stage.

The orchestra started to play the _entr'acte_ and Quinn fell back into focus. The second act was more rigorous and quick. She needed to be completely in tune with everything to make the already perfect night the best perfect night.

A violin sounded its last notes. "Curtain," She pointed and the drape went up.

Act two began but Quinn was anything but focused. There was a prickling feeling on her shoulders where Brittany had touched her and the strange feeling she had gotten from her settled in her stomach like the feeling after a bad meal. She stayed in her stool for the remainder of the night and let Sam handle all the moving she usually did. She felt a little bad for doing it, but he was hovering over her like an annoying shadow.

She watched Rachel like she wanted her to do to give her more critical notes than others would give her, but Quinn's eyes and attention were shifted to another person for the first time. Brittany.

The dancers were doing a lyrical number while Rachel and Thoms, the male lead, sang a ballad under a makeshift moonlight. A heavy spotlight shined down on the stage illuminating the dancers but soon it only had one person in its beam.

Brittany's eyes were closed as she moved to the lyrics. Her pale skin was white in the light and glittering from her make up. Long arms lifted up above her head and her back arched before she fell to the ground and spun gracefully to her back then back to her hands.

Quinn caught her breath at the movement knowing that if she didn't have any control, her deliberate fall would've been a fall instead of a dance move.

Long legs carried Brittany across the stage and Quinn followed each move in awe. Rachel was right. Brittany was amazing, skilled and flawless. It was hard for Quinn to draw her eyes away from her and she could see the audience in the house thought so too. They watched her dance with awestruck looks, the music and the lyrics and the dance combining to set the sorrowful mood of the scene.

Quinn turned back to Brittany when she heard Rachel utter the last few notes of the song. Brittany was spinning fast, and as Rachel's note dragged out, her turns slowed down. She finally came to a stop with the last tapped note on the piano. At the same time, her blue eyes flicked up and found Quinn in the wings.

The applause that erupted was lost as Quinn stared back at her. She could feel her chest burn, begging her to take in a breath but she couldn't. Brittany's silver painted lips started to curl up in a grin. She winked. Quinn sucked in a gulp of air.

"Curtain!" She demanded. Quinn turned up her headset so Jesse's and the other's voices blocked out the airy laugh Brittany was giving once the drapes flapped shut together.

-/-/-/-

"Here's to an amazing opening night,"

Glasses clinked together and sips of alcohol were taken. Jesse, Rachel and Quinn sat at a table with Mike, Tina and Sam, who Rachel begged her to bring so she wouldn't feel left out. Quinn knew that wasn't the reason. Rachel had been paying attention to Sam during the night and had come up with the conclusion that,

"He likes you,"

Quinn had rolled her eyes and flicked off the theatre lights. "Oh, please,"

"He follows you around like a puppy. What else do you think that is? It's not because he's trying to soak up your talent through osmosis."

"Sam doesn't like me," She slammed the door of her car and Rachel's echoed hers and they headed for their apartment. There was no way she was going out with them dressed the way she was. "And he's only nineteen."

"He's legal,"

"He's a child,"

Rachel threw up her hands. "So if he is? You haven't dated anyone since-"

"-Don't," Quinn cut her off, pain and anguish swarming her stomach.

"I'm sorry. I know how sensitive you are about that but," Rachel looked down at her lap. "You need to learn that not every guy will be like that and not every situation will turn out the way yours did. Open yourself back up, Quinn. What do you think would've happened to me if I continued to shun the stage because New York rejected me?"

"Rachel, that was different," Quinn said coldly as she drove them to the restaurant. "My whole life was taken from me."

"Performing was my life. How do you think I felt when my dream didn't come together when I wanted it to?"

"You can get back on a stage, Rach. What I lost I can't get back. Ever."

Quinn sat her wineglass down and turned to Rachel. They gave each other soft smiles but neither of them reached their eyes. The talk on the ride over had left them in a funk and Quinn knew it wouldn't be the last of those talks. The last one had been a year ago and Quinn could handle it no better than she could when everything crumbled beneath her feet her sophomore year of high school.

She hoped with enough alcohol and perverse jokes during the night, their moods would lift back to what they were after curtain call.

"Eight more weeks," Mike said, setting his glass down. He threw an arm over the back of Tina's chair and she offered him a kiss on the cheek. "Think we can knock them all out like tonight, Jesse?"

"I hope so," He flagged down the waitress for more breadsticks on their table. "How do you think the show went, babe?" Rachel scrunched up her nose at the meaty plate that was sat down in front of her boyfriend. Quinn knew he wouldn't be getting any more kisses for the night.

"At first I thought it was horrendous," Her disgust switched when her veggie plate fell in front of her. Only Rachel could be excided with the lack of animal products in her diet. Quinn nibbled her chicken alfrado blissfully. "Sometimes I think Thoms is tone deaf."

"He did sound flat a couple times." Mike said.

"Sharp, actually," Rachel corrected him.

Jesse nodded in agreement. "He's newer to this than you are, Rae."

Rachel huffed. "If he was good enough to be a male lead alongside me, then his vocals need be spot on, and his ears need to be trained to their optimum best."

Quinn laughed. "Not everyone was blessed with perfect pitch like you."

Rachel waved her hand in the air. "With enough practice and training, one can be just as good as a born natural, so there is no excuse."

"I thought he sounded good," Tina came to the boy's defense. Quinn nodded in agreement. Mike had told her that Tina was a vocal coach with a wonderful voice herself. If anyone at the table knew, Tina would know.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure he did to the hundreds of untrained ears in that theatre. Not you, Tina, I know of your profession so I believe you out of everyone there would know, but probably no one else." Quinn gave Tina an apologetic look to make up for her friend. Sometimes Rachel could be selfish but it was never to hurt anyone.

"I'll work with him," Jesse said and the conversation died out.

Talk was scarce as everyone ate. Few things about how much the audience had laughed an applauded were noted as well as attendance. Other things not related to the show were discussed like the rising temperature as the summer continued on and the men talked about sports things.

Quinn toggled between conversations with Tina and Mike about how they met and got to where they were, and with Sam about his high school experience.

It was hard for Quinn not to feel strange having a teenager sitting with them but no one else seemed to mind. She figured it was because of what Rachel had said about him that had put her off and as the night dragged on, Quinn started to notice that Rachel had been right. Sam liked her.

She was flattered, and even more so when he offered to pay for her meal, but she wasn't going with it. Sam was too much of a kid and being fresh out of high school did not help. She had to hand it to him. He was a sweet young man and, from talking to him, he wasn't dropping any blatant hints that he had a crush on her and his eyes stayed on her face. How polite.

"That dancer of yours, Mike, had half the audience in tears after Rachel and Thoms' duet." Jesse said as they passed their bill books to the waitress. "Where'd you find her?"

"Brittany?" Mike questioned and Quinn's head whipped around to the choreographer. "We used to live together until Tina and I got married." He glanced at his wife with a frown that showed how much he, and even Tina, missed her. "We said she could move into the house with us, but she stayed at the apartment."

"Hmm," Jesse nodded, thumbing the stubble on his chin. "She's good. Does she do anything besides dance?"

Mike shook his head. "She teaches at a dance studio around here, but she never went to college and I don't think she needs to. Dancing will take her as far as she wants to go."

"Unless, of course, she breaks her leg." Rachel.

Jesse shook his head and Mike laughed. "She could still teach."

"Does she have a boyfriend or fiancé or anything?" Rachel asked. She was always nosy about other people's relationship statuses but Quinn was curious too.

Mike shook his head just as the waitress returned their cards. "No one steady," He answered.

"No one steady?" Rachel asked the question everyone was wondering from the comment. Mike only shook his head again and signed his check.

Quinn squeezed Rachel's knee beneath the table to stop her from asking it again. If he wanted to answer it he would've. Quinn didn't blame him for not clarifying the statement. It was Brittany's life, and no matter how close they were, he didn't have the jurisdiction to spread her business.

But as they hugged and kissed and said their goodbyes (Quinn allowed Sam to at least hug her), Quinn's mind was still trying to read between the lines. No one steady could mean she had a boyfriend but they weren't really but just fooled around sometimes. It could also mean that she had multiple people coming at her door and none stayed permanently. No one would take away from Mike's statement that she was just single. Aside from her, Quinn didn't know many people who were just single anymore.

"So," Rachel stated once they got into her car. Quinn tried to tell her she could go off with Jesse but Rachel insisted she came home.

"We're not married yet," were her actual words.

"So what?" Quinn sighed revving the engine.

"Sam?"

"We will be friends and that is all."

"You're no fun, Quinn," Rachel pouted much the way she would in high school. "At least one night?"

"No!" She shouted then laughed in shock. "That coming from Rachel, the girl who is faithful to one man until further ado, just shows how desperate you are for me to find someone to be with."

"Maybe I am,"

"Why?"

Rachel opened her mouth ready to dive into discussion but she stopped herself. "Nothing. Nevermind, it's nothing. We don't have to talk about that right now because I know you don't want to, and it's not the time to anyways." She laid her head on Quinn's shoulder as she drove. Quinn leaned hers over for a few seconds before a light turned. "I didn't get any flowers from you."

Quinn laughed. "My friendship is better than some flowers that will die in three days." She pulled into their apartment and shut off the car.

"Jesse gave me flowers," She said under her breath but Quinn still caught it.

Flinging open Rachel's door, Quinn reached in and yanked her out. She dramatically fell into Quinn like her legs were now a pair noodles. "It's expected of him. He's your boyfriend."

"We're best friends and have known each other much longer than me and Jesse."

"You prove my point. Seven years of friendship over a year of dating and a bouquet of roses."

"No," Rachel fell down onto her bed and Quinn followed her into the soft cushion. "That means you owe me for all the years I've put up with you."

"You loved me living with you,"

"Did I?" Rachel tested.

Quinn rolled to her side and kissed her on the cheek. "Yes,"

Rachel smiled. "Yes, I did," She threaded her fingers in Quinn's between them. "They were possibly the best three years of my life along with these last three and a half."

Quinn rested her head on her shoulder breathing in her smell. "Mine too,"

-/-/-/-

It was a cold autumn day. Colder than usual. Quinn was walking down the sidewalk, her hands cupping her stomach. Her baby bump was now big enough to show through her regular clothes. She took to wearing shirts that hid it but it was also a dead giveaway to everyone that she was pregnant.

A crisp wing blew through her cardigan and she pulled it tighter around her. She knew she probably should head back to the shelter, but she hated it there. The ladies that ran the place were nice and they took care of all the women, but Quinn couldn't stand the atmosphere. It was depressing to see the other ladies out of home and no support.

Some of them were in good spirits. The lady she was roomed with took her situation rather well, but there were nights Quinn heard her crying in bed. She laid there for a while thinking her hushed sobs would subside and she'd fall asleep, but most times it didn't. Quinn would then slip on her slippers, and walk to the den where some girls were gathered in front of a TV.

She never joined them. They were into reality shows and talk shows that didn't make anyone feel better. Especially the episodes devoted to women who were proving to men that they were indeed the father of their child. Quinn would put in her ear buds, and sit off in a chair shoved in the corner by a lamp. She would sit there and read and read and read until she fell asleep and someone had to shake her awake and tell her to go to bed.

Quinn neared the end of the street and the cold was starting to sink through her skin to her bones. Her feet were beginning to hurt and her stomach was grumbling, demanding to be fed. Begrudgingly, Quinn did an about face and headed back in the direction of the shelter.

She didn't particularly like walking either. When she lived at home, she never decided to get up and take a walk. It was another thing she did to get away. It cleared her nose of the awful cleaner that they used and eased up the tension of being surrounded by so many girls with raging hormones. It was good to walk but she wished there was something to do about disguising herself.

There were numerous occasions when she saw people from school drive by. Some would stare at her until they'd turn the corner and others would point and nudge the other person in the car. Others, like people she used to talk to, people who were her friends, were the ones Quinn hated to see. The bafflement and the judging looks they tossed her struck her the hardest. They brought back every condemning word that her parents had slapped her across the face with.

Halfway back, and Quinn felt her pace start to slow and her feet begin to drag. She hadn't noticed how far she had gone up until then and there were no taxis in Lima she could flag down. Fortunately, or unfortunately to Quinn, a familiar face sticking out of a passing car window passed her.

She kept her head down as they passed and kept it down when she heard the car slow and the gears shifted into reverse. She cursed. Another person to ask her how she was doing and go on about their day without a care, she thought.

"Quinn?" Rachel said her name like she wasn't sure if it was her. But Quinn knew Rachel knew exactly who she was. Who didn't know her?

She had been the first freshmen to ever land a co-captain spot and the first sophomore to be captain. She was the most popular girl at McKinley High who had dated all the hottest boys. She was perfect in every way. She had perfect marks, perfect looks, perfect family and a perfect record and everyone knew it. The fact she didn't put out wasn't even a downfall because she was that great where a kiss on the cheek was just as good.

Quinn stopped walking and turned to the car that had pulled up on the curb, hazard lights blinking. "Berry," She had never called the girl by her first name.

Rachel Berry was under her like everyone else in the school, but Rachel was also lower than the lowest. Quinn never talked to her because of it and she paid her no attention either. She'd laugh along with the others when they teased the poorly dressed Jew and she'd help buy slushies for the more cruel kids.

Quinn never picked up on exactly why no one liked Rachel. She knew she was headstrong and driven by a fanciful dream that no one in town would ever accomplish. She knew she had two gay dads that rubbed Quinn's parents the wrong way when they would see them at the supermarket, and she knew Rachel could sing because she had sang the National Anthem at one of the pep rallies. She had been egged right after, but at least the performance didn't suck.

Not calling her by her first name just went with the territory. It wasn't an insult, necessarily, but it showed there was not even an acquaintanceship between them.

"Uh, how are you doing?" She asked looking unsure of herself.

"No better than yesterday," She answered.

"How's living with Noah?"

Quinn's eyes shot open and her chest burned. She had told people at school she was living with Puck but that hadn't worked out. It had done worse than not working out. She wondered why he was still allowing people to think that. She figured because he felt guilty about what he did to her.

She felt her eyes start to water at the memory of it. Rachel caught it and her face fell. "Hey, Quinn," She turned back to her dad to whisper something. He gave her a nod and she turned back to her. "I know we're not friends, and we've never spoken to each other, but would you like to come and have dinner at my house? Or we can take you home since it's getting cold."

Quinn shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she searched Rachel's face for anything false. It didn't make sense why she would open her house to her even if she didn't know that Quinn had a hand in all the terrible things that the others did to her. Regardless, she did not want to go back to the shelter and she didn't want them to know where she lived just yet. Not Rachel.

"Sure," She nodded, touching her stomach as it gave another grow. She was ravenous. "If you don't mind."

"If I minded why would I be asking?" Rachel smiled at her and got out to open the door. It was unnecessary but Quinn let it go.

She got in and settled into the back seat feeling awkward but relieved. Anything beat shelter food and the over flowing amount of estrogen she would've been surrounded by that night.

She glanced up at the rearview mirror to see Rachel looking back at her. She grinned at her and Quinn echoed it. It was that grin that she would look to for reassurance and comfort for as long as she still had Rachel in her life.

-/-/-/-

"Quinn?" Quinn nodded her head against Rachel's lap where her head rested. They had moved from Rachel's bed to the couch in the living room to watch a show that Rachel had recorded having missed it because of the show.

She ran her hand through her hair. Quinn shivered when her nails grazed her scalp. "Will we stay in touch after I leave?"

The mourning in her voice made Quinn roll onto her back so she could see Rachel's face. She was looking forward at the TV that played some show neither of them cared about.

"Sure," She said softly. "Why wouldn't we? I think living together sort of bonded us together."

"You think so too?" Her brown eyes floated down to meet Quinn's. She nodded her head reaching up to twiddle with a strand of Rachel's dark hair. "I want you to find someone like Jesse." Quinn made a face. "You know what I mean."

Quinn sighed letting her hand fall. "I don't know," And she really didn't know. The idea made her insides churn and her defenses flare up. "If God willing, then I will."

"God willing?" Rachel raised an eyebrow. "When did you start praying again?"

"I haven't exactly," She sat up to sit beside her roommate. "But I still believe that if I'm meant to find someone, than they'll be put in front of me."

"Don't you have to put forth an effort?"

"I guess, but I'm not ready, Rach," She worried her lip between her teeth. She felt her heart start to sped up just thinking about it. "I'm happy for you. I'm glad you found Jesse and I'm glad he's so good to you, but I'm not ready for what you two have."

"I never said you had to jump straight to exchanging vows. I just," Rachel ran her hand down the length of Quinn's arm and grabbed her hand again. Quinn felt a slight ease at it being there. She had never needed another hand to hold but Rachel's. "I don't want you to be alone." Quinn's eyes shot to hers. "Not alone in this apartment alone. I mean…alone."

"Yeah,"

Rachel rested her head on Quinn's shoulder and she stacked hers on top. "You've got to deal with it someday, Quinn. Painting it will only do so much for you."

"I know," She sucked in a deep breath and kissed the top of Rachel's head. "Lets go to sleep,"

_Til Next Chapter_


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

Quinn woke up on the couch where she had fallen asleep the previous night. Sun broke through the window telling her how late in the day it was and the silence echoing off the walls told her Rachel was gone.

Sitting up, her eyes caught a note on the TV screen and she squinted to read Rachel's handwriting informing her that she left for her early morning jog and would be out shopping the rest of the day. Quinn furrowed her brow as she got up to make a stop in the bathroom and returned to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

She looked at the calendar that was pinned above the coffee maker. Black X's crossed out the first week of June and hung over to the next. It was Monday. _It was Monday. _Quinn did a tiny dance as the realization that they didn't have a show that night washed over her.

As she poured her coffee and started on making a sandwich, she started to feel a little lighter and better about her day. The first weekend of the show was phenomenal but it had wiped her out. She hardly remembered Sunday night after the show.

Rachel had dragged her off with the usual crowd they started to acquaint themselves with, and had stayed out until they were nearly falling asleep on their feet. Quinn stayed awake twenty more minutes to drive them home safely and dragged Rachel to bed. She had plopped down on the couch for a moment. The next thing she knew, it was well past two Monday afternoon.

Popping the last morsel of sandwich into her mouth, Quinn sat down her coffee cup and slipped on her shoes to retrieve the mail.

It was scorching outside. The heat instantly sucked all the breath out of her lungs and sweat sprang to her skin like chill bumps. By the time she reached the community mailbox, she had to wipe perspiration off her brow.

She looked down the length of the sidewalk expecting to see Rachel coming up. Rachel hated the heat. On nights Quinn wanted to go into the city on summer nights, Rachel found some way to keep them inside and off the streets. Either that, or they'd hurry back home where Rachel would take an hour long, cold shower to chill her burning bones down. Quinn didn't mind the heat.

She liked the way it made her sluggish and lethargic and kept her joints warm. She loved the heat because along with the heat was the seasons of spring and summer. They were seasons of new beginnings for the world and for Quinn. From the first cries of her baby born mid-march to the final words of her permanent residence at the Berry's in late may. There was new life, new starts all around. But even summer had to give way to fall and soon dwindle into winter.

Quinn snatched the mail from the box and hurried back towards the apartment. She sifted through the letters. They were all junk and sales and bills. She tossed them on the dining table to get back to them later on. The heat had left her lazy but had put her mind into a frenzy.

Ever since Rachel questioned about them keeping in touch and finding someone, Quinn's feathers were ruffled. What did Rachel take her for? She was a strong, independent woman who didn't need a man in her life to function. And Rachel knew that.

A man to wed wasn't what Rachel had meant. She had meant someone to keep Quinn afloat, break into her skull and unlock all the memories and woes and pains she had only allowed one person see and share with. Rachel was worried about her.

Maybe she wasn't as strong as she made herself out to be. Quinn knew she was strong physically. She had to be the way she handled sets and ran away as much as she did. She was thick skinned. Nothing could touch her. But was she thick skinned because that's how she was or was it her way of blocking darts the world had been firing at her since she was sixteen?

Sam came into mind and bits and pieces of the previous night did too. Sam had come with them and Quinn had strung her arm around his allowing him to be a perfect gentleman and make up for her lack of date. She was grateful for his presence because, and Quinn would never admit it, she felt left out being around Jesse and Rachel and Mike and Tina. They were wonderful people but Quinn was lost in their couples talk.

Surprisingly, she found herself laughing at Sam's goofy jokes and his Matthew Mcconaughey impression was sort of cute. Yet, at the end of the night when Rachel tried to say that she saw chemistry between them, Quinn shut her up quick. She just wanted his friendship, if anything. That was all.

She was on the last _Lord of The Rings _movie when Rachel came bursting through the doors. Quinn hit the pause button and rushed to help her roommate bring in shopping bags and grocery bags to Quinn's relief. She had been eating sandwiches the past couple days and didn't have time to do shopping with the show and what not.

"Have you been outside today?" Rachel panted, letting bags slip out of her fingers. Quinn caught them before they hit the floor. "When did we move to the Sahara? I could honestly fry your entire breakfast and probably make a decent pancake on the sidewalk."

Quinn laughed. "It's not that hot,"

"How can you say? I bet you've been inside under this glorious air condition all day long doing nothing while I braved heats of world record breaking proportion to bring home much needed food so we can survive in case there's a famine."

Quinn put her carton of milk in the fridge beside Rachel's nasty, soy milk carton. "When everyone around us has resorted to cannibalism, I'll have you to thank."

She saw Rachel shudder at the image and fall into the booth. Quinn wouldn't mention that she was doing everything by herself. It was only fair for her to stock the stuff and allow Rachel to rest.

Rachel picked up the mail, nose scrunching at the bills. "What have you done today?"

"Bring in the mail,"

"And fill your time with fanciful nonsense." She picked up the DVD case.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You bought them for me."

"And you've watched them about seven times every year since I did." She threw her legs up on the table and lounged back. Quinn noticed how short her skirt was. What was two more inches when it was so hot? "And I thought I was the nerd."

"You are," Quinn shut the fridge then moved to the items to throw in the cupboards and cabinets. "Need I remind you of your Barbara Streisand shrine that was too big for you to bring here with you?"

"Point made,"

Quinn grinned in triumph and went to join her at the booth. She ran her fingers over the cool surface. When she moved into the apartment, she thought it was strange to have a restaurant style booth installed inside. She had requested it be taken out but with only her and then Rachel they didn't need anything bigger. They hardly got visitors and if they did it was mostly only Jesse.

With graduating and leaving Lima, Quinn knew she would completely cut herself off to her old town. She had nothing left there for her but two loving men that had served as her dads in the place of the condemning one that no longer wanted her.

It was summer, a start of a new season and chapter in Quinn's life. She wanted to forget everything about her past and never have to go back to it again. So she moved south. As far south as she could until she ended up in Texas and made her residence there. No one would come looking for her there and no one did. The occasional letters from Rachel told her that the only person she cared about was trying to pursue her dream and Quinn enrolled into college.

She liked school and she liked her professors, but something about the school and rules rubbed her the wrong way. Half a year later, Rachel was knocking on her door and fell into her with giant tears falling from her eyes. Quinn tried to tell her that her life wasn't over and to try again, but Rachel refused to return to the stage.

Quinn helped her get settled in and they began living together and soon Rachel was enrolled in her college and they went together. Another year and a half and Quinn dropped out taking up painting and art as her career and was soon roped into the theatrical realm by her former professor.

Rachel kept going to school and Quinn worked harder on her own to perfect her painting and master the skill of building and design that began to come natural to her.

Throughout it all, they never saw anyone from Lima and only but a few friends from college came by. It had just been Rachel and Quinn. Quinn and Rachel. It was good and Quinn thought it would last until St. James.

He began like the others. He'd stop by occasionally and they'd go out and have drinks. Then Rachel was with him and he was talking her back into performing. Soon, he had her doing small productions here and there, and now he had her back in a female lead that could set her off into her dream once again.

"Quinn?"

She brought up her eyes from the spot she had been staring at while she was over taken by her reverie. Rachel had asked her a question. She had probably been talking the entire time and she had missed it all.

"Are you alright?" She asked looking into her eyes seeing the swirls of her daydream start to fade away.

"I'm fine. What were you saying?"

Rachel waited a moment taking Quinn in before speaking. "I ran into Brittany today." Quinn was suddenly alert. "I was close to heatstroke on the way here, so I stopped at the coffee shop and she was there with some friend or other. I didn't notice her at first, but she waved me over and invited me to sit with her for a while."

"And you did?" Quinn didn't intend to sound disturbed by the idea. She was only surprised. Rachel was friendly but when she was heated up she wasn't always very nice.

"Of course I did," She stood up from the booth to grab a water bottle from the fridge and Quinn a soda. "I couldn't be rude and I was curious about her since what Mike said."

Quinn drank her soda to hide her smirk. Of course it wasn't just about having a sit down to get to know someone. She would gain something out of it. Information about this girl.

"And?"

Rachel drew in her brow as she fingered the top of her water bottle. "She's…_different,_" She said slowly and Quinn examined her face to try and pick up with the tone in her voice meant. "Not like weird different just different. She's very open and she doesn't have much a sense of personal space or a filter."

"How so?"

"Well, she'd say things without thinking about them. Her friend thought it was hilarious but sometimes it was uncomfortable and they were very close. Like _really _close."

"We're really close." Quinn assessed.

Rachel shook her head making her hair go around her face. Quinn saw that the hair closes to her face and forehead were frizzy from sweating. "I mean they were really close, Quinn. It was like they were flirting with each other the entire time I was sitting there and had no shame about it either."

Quinn laughed at Rachel's uneasiness. Rachel didn't mind people being affectionate; she just wasn't a fan of over amounts of public displays of it. Quinn had hardly seen her and Jesse kiss when they were in the presence of other people that weren't her. Even when Quinn was present they toned it down. It was respectable, was what Rachel said. Nobody wants to know what happens behind closed doors in front of them.

"Maybe they're together," Quinn offered. There was a strange pang in her chest at the idea. She waved it off.

"But they weren't,"

"How do you know?"

"I don't know, but I didn't get that they were together. Maybe that they knew each other well, _very _well, but I don't think they're dating. There was something missing from their interaction that would've given that away."

Quinn nodded and drank down her soda. The carbonation fizzed in the back of her throat. "So maybe she likes to fool around. Mike said she didn't have anyone steady."

"I suppose," Rachel pursed her lips, but the corners were turned up to make a smirk. "He also didn't mention that she was into women."

"What?" Quinn dragged her hand across her chin to wipe off the soda that had spluttered out of her mouth. Rachel laughed.

"The friend she was with was a woman, a very attractive Latina at that." Rachel's smirked broadened. "And if they fooled around then…"

Quinn felt her heart begin to speed up and something in her gut start to burn. She tried to wave it off just like the other tug in her chest, but she couldn't beat down her intrigue at the idea. Why?

"Dancer gets around," Quinn joked.

"She's strange."

"What do you mean? I thought you said she was odd."

"I said she was different, not odd, they're not the same." She shrugged drinking the last of her water. "The way Mike described her and the way she presents herself at the theatre is different then how she was when I sat with her today."

_Was she? _Quinn wondered. She had spoken to the girl once when she had stayed late afterwards and then again on opening night. There was defiantly something different about her but Quinn knew it wasn't the same sort of different Rachel was telling her now. Rachel hadn't had the girl touch her or wink at her from the stage. It made Quinn feel…_different. _

"I'm going out tonight," Rachel said suddenly getting up. She picked up the shopping bags of clothes and things from the floor. "I don't think we're doing anything fancy if you want to come. You could call Sam, maybe?" Quinn glared at her. "Or not, but you don't need to waste the day inside."

"Can you blame me for resting after a weekend of performances?"

"No, but I don't like you sitting around getting fat off popcorn and watching geeky movies." Quinn gave her an ill look. "Paint or something."

"I…" She trailed off, rolling the idea in her mind. She hadn't painted since that night at their last rehearsal. "Maybe,"

"Just don't get it on the walls again." Rachel scolded.

Quinn grinned as she got up to pack her satchel with paints. She wouldn't be painting in the apartment tonight.

-/-/-/-

It had been so long since Quinn had done it that the rush and excitement was just as fresh and new and exhilarating as the first time.

She was hot and sticky with sweat. Paint was smeared all up and down her arms and coating her hands. She brushed the back of her hand across her forehead to rid it of sweat and push back stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail. She felt a steak of paint cross her brow but didn't care.

The cluster of people around her had faded into the distance. She was in her own world. The pulse of music playing across the street from where she was crouched on a street corner willed her on as she worked a masterpiece out with paint on canvas. She heard people shouting requests and asking her how much her works would cost, but their voices were only hums in her ears.

She needed this for herself tonight. She wasn't painting for the onlookers and spectators. She was painting for herself to ease the nagging in her stomach and the restlessness in her bones that had crept up on her again. There was one thing about doing artwork in the privacy of her apartment only under her roommates eyes, but being out in the public, surrounded by fumes of the city and the paints and the heat pressing down on her was liberating

The stream of yellow spray paint soared across the canvas adding the last touch to the picture. A depiction of the city that surrounded her was reflected on the board, vibrant colors springing up like lights and exploding like fireworks. It wasn't much of anything, really. At least, not to the people who were waving bills in her face for it. They didn't know the deeper meaning behind what she had done. They never would. Only her.

She took two twenty-dollar bills from a man in front of her and passed her newest work to him. Some of the others complained but their eyes found the ten others finished behind her and the new board she was whipping out.

She laid the slab of wood on the concrete and took out a set of acrylics. She had started getting dizzy from all the spray paint fumes. It had been months since Quinn painted on the streets and being back out made her wonder why she had stopped for so long.

Her art professor, a Mr. Schuester, had suggested she do it if she wasn't going to continue classes. He said it would help her open her mind and set her constraints free. It would help her reach that edginess that she was trying to get in her works and give her more inspiration on what to paint.

It was a source of money for her when she wasn't getting enough at the small jobs she worked at over the years. She would get more out of six paintings in a night then she would at a week working at the down town public library.

When Rachel first came, and Quinn got in late all covered in colors and skin darkened from the debris, she was opposed to what she did. It took a while to convince Rachel, and a few nights of her tagging along to see things weren't so bad. Enough people surrounded her and cops were out throughout the night to ensure things didn't get out of hand. She felt safe and so Rachel felt at ease because for Quinn to feel safe was big.

Abandoning her brushes, she smeared in navy blue with violet to create the next picture. It was abstract. Something you could find behind a receptionist desk in a modern, business building. She finished with a touch of red then splattered yellow over it to put herself in the work then signed her name in the corner.

"How much?" Someone asked her.

She looked up to see a man. "How much do you have?"

He dug in his pocket while others shouted their own prices. "Thirty?" He asked. She nodded and handed it to him.

Getting up, she picked up the other ten canvases that she had done. She took different amounts for each not caring to see how much was shoved in her face. Anything higher than thirty dollars was fine to her. She could easily replicate her pieces again. They were inside of her. They would never truly leave.

The last one she handed for free to a little boy who only had a five in his hand. She glanced up at the mother who looked sadly at her son and to Quinn knowing such little money would not suffice. She surprised them both and placed the last, and biggest, canvas in his hands.

Some of the crowd groaned in distaste and begged her for more but she shook her head and waved them away. She had been out there for hours and her head was starting to spin a little. She loved the feeling.

Once they had all dispersed, she lowered herself back to the ground and stuffed the money to the very bottom of her bag then tossed her supplies in with it. When she straightened up, she was greeted with a pair of familiar blue eyes.

"Brittany!" Quinn gasped like she had just seen a ghost.

"Quinn," She smiled, her eyes sweeping her once again. It was what Brittany did when she saw Quinn. Even if they didn't talk and Brittany was passing by her backstage, her eyes took in all of Quinn, and each time Quinn felt exposed.

She hoisted her satchel strap higher on her shoulder. "Hey," Subconsciously, she wiped her dirty hands on her ripped jeans trying to make herself look a little cleaner than she was.

"Hi," Her smile broadened and Quinn finally took her all in.

She was in a red spaghetti strap shirt and pair of jean shorts that were frayed on the ends. Her long legs and arms spilled out looking peachy under the streetlights and her blonde hair was sparkling gold and down blowing around her face.

Quinn thought back to her and Rachel's conversation. "What're you doing out here?"

"I was over there," She motioned across the street where the pulsing music was. People were jumping around a stage where a DJ was mixing electronica and other genres. Of course Brittany would be where there was dancing.

"You're really good." She said, drawing Quinn's attention back to her. "At painting. I was watching you."

She was watching her. "Oh?" Quinn hadn't noticed her in the crowd. Then again she hardly noticed much that was going on around her. "Yeah, uh, thanks."

"Why are you always so nervous when I talk to you?" She took a step forward, lips curling back to show her teeth in her grin. "I don't bite, I promise."

"I don't know that for sure." Quinn played along.

Brittany laughed a silvery sound from the back of her throat. "Are you busy?" Quinn shook her head. "Do you like to dance?"

_No. _She was about to answer but Quinn wasn't into lying. She didn't really like to dance a lot but cheering had put it in her. "Sometimes,"

Blue eyes lit up like the veiled stars above. "Come with me," She took a hold of Quinn's wrist and gave her a tug to follow. "Won't you?"

"I'm a mess, Brittany," She laughed looking down at where the girl was holding her. Her fingers circled hers perfectly with centimeters of finger left.

"You look better than I do," Was all she said before she started pulling Quinn along down the street.

Quinn knew the streets well. She had spent enough time walking them to clear her mind and take inspiration for painting and for the show's set. She wasn't much for hustle and bustle, but something about the way the city moved and how it had its own rhythm made Quinn like it. Sometimes, she'd pop in her ear buds and just let the beat of the city pulse under her feet as she walked. It blended her mind's world and the world into art.

Brittany led her to the heart of down town where the noise was at its loudest and the crowds were at its heaviest. The city park sitting in the valley of high rising skyscrapers was swarming with people and music and life. A loud bass bang of a drum rumbled through the air like thunder making Quinn jump.

"There," Brittany pointed with the hand that wasn't still holding onto Quinn. "You'll like it." Quinn only nodded and allowed Brittany to take her across the street to join the screaming crowd.

Once they reached the cluster of bodies, Brittany weaved them through, ignoring the protests and the angry comments of being pushed out of the way. Quinn tailed behind her, bidding her apology as she snaked through, her head down.

The smell of alcohol, smoke, and something else very familiar tickled Quinn's nose. Brittany finally broke into the front of the crowd and Quinn's eyes grew.

"See?" Brittany smiled at her shock.

In front of her was a DJ booth like there was across the street from where she was painting but it was surrounded by a clear plastic case. When the next rumble of bass sounded, Quinn knew why he had the cage. When someone hit the drum, paint went flying into the air coating the crowd of people in the middle of the circle and others in the crowd.

There were other large drums along with trashcans, buckets, aluminum can tops, brooms and mops and all sorts of things used to beat against other objects an sling paint into the air. She watched two guys raise a mallet and strike the bass drum again and everyone hollered as paint shot high up in the sky and came raining down.

"Wanna try?" Brittany asked, breathlessly.

Quinn turned up to see a splotch of paint on her face and some dotting her shirt. She had to fight against herself to reach up and brush it away from the place beneath her lip.

"I don't know,"

"You like to dance?" She asked again and Quinn nodded. "And you like to paint. You can do both."

"I see that,"

Her eyes traveled back to the hyped crowd. She had stayed away from such pandemonium. It reminded her of old days and stupid high school parties. No. Not any stupid high school party, but the one high school party that was the catalyst of the domino effect that crumbled her life. She tensed.

Brittany's hand slid up her arm to her bicep where she stroked her skin with a thumb. The soft touch eased Quinn a little. "Come on," Her mouth was open in a grin and her eyes were blazing with excitement and maybe something else. Had she been drinking? "I'll be with you."

"Okay," She nodded and Brittany took her wrist again as they ducked beneath the tape that held them from going further.

Trotting across the lot, paint started to fly at them and Quinn cringed feeling the cold, wetness hit against her skin in contrast to the heat. Brittany squealed beside her, getting doused with a half bucket of green paint by a random guy. She bent down picking up another bucket and dumped it over the front of her body then the rest down her back. Quinn's mouth dropped open as Brittany started to smear it over her legs and arms and put strips beneath her eyes.

"Now I'm a mess," She touched her blue thumb onto Quinn's cheek to paint a stripe beneath her eye. "And now," Brittany threaded her fingers with Quinn's.

She felt herself being guided through shooting streams of paint and the pulse of the music's bass grow stronger in her chest as they neared where people were dancing more than flinging paint. The hand Brittany was holding was placed on her shoulder and then her other on Brittany's other shoulder.

Without hesitation, Brittany cupped Quinn's waist. "We dance," Her voice was lost as the music took a harder turn.

Brittany rocked them both, side to side, a few times to get Quinn going. When she started to sway on her own, Brittany let her go and Quinn stepped back to move to the music. Her memory of cheer camps and routines flooded into her muscles and she started to rotate her hips to the sensual under tones of the music and her arms went up over her head.

A thick laugh left Brittany's throat, her head thrown back with it as she began to move. She bounced on the balls of her feet then moved her arms and her hips. Quinn watched her fluid motions and the way her face morphed to match the feel of the music playing.

She danced around Quinn, her eyes lidded and her mouth slightly open and grinning. Her hands touched Quinn's shoulders, elbows, her face and her hips as each move flowed into the next. Each touch of Brittany's fingers sent electric chills through Quinn's body. When her body bumped into Quinn's, heat erupted inside of her. The look in her blue eyes was hot and seducing and the curve of her lips was all fun and inviting.

Brittany spun her around and Quinn laughed – really laughed. She felt her back press into Brittany's front and she held her breath tensing instantly.

Brittany chuckled close to her ear. "Always nervous," She said almost teasingly. Quinn wiggled to get out of her hold, reality sinking back into her, but Brittany didn't let her go. "Do you like watching me dance?" She asked in her ear.

Quinn's defenses flared up and she pushed out of Brittany's arms. The dancer frowned for a moment but it was quickly gone. "It was only a question, Quinn." She said, still moving to the beat while Quinn remained motionless. She felt weird.

"I don't pay much attention."

"You don't?" Her frown returned and she took a step forward invading Quinn's personal space. She wondered if that was what Rachel meant about her statement from before. "I see you watching me from the wings."

"I watch everyone," Her body was moving again with the aid of Brittany's hands back on her hips. She went to pull back but Brittany was holding her there with her eyes. "Not just you…"

"Rachel," She said slowly. Quinn blinked. She felt her body drawing closer to Brittany's. "You watch Rachel too." Quinn's world was a whirl when Brittany spun her then took hold of her waist again. "I like it when you watch me."

Her hips connected with Brittany's, lanky arms wrapped around her waist holding her there. There wasn't anything weird about it. They were dancing. Quinn had danced with many people in the same way. All those parties in high school and sneaked trips to the club with Rachel their senior year had their shares of grinding on people and getting lost in the heat of dancing. But it wasn't a night out with Rachel that the roll of Brittany's hips reminded her of.

Her mind reeled and she pulled away.

"Quinn?" Brittany said her name softly, but Quinn heard it over the music.

She shook her head and drew away from the hand trying to reach out to her. "I have to go," She said suddenly. "Sorry," She said without looking up at Brittany.

She split away from her and darted through the crowd. She heard Brittany's pursuit behind her, but once she reached the street, Brittany didn't follow her anymore.

-/-/-/-

The house was full of people.

Quinn had arrived late draped in a white sundress and a green cardigan. She had done her hair in soft curls that fell around her face and she made sure her eye make up and lip-gloss were perfect.

Heads turned when they saw her come in. Jaws dropped and eyes widened at seeing her not dressed in her cheerleading outfit she was forced to wear everyday. That was one thing she missed about middle school. She'd never take wearing normal clothes for granted again.

People bid her greeting and other cheerleaders came up and hugged and kissed her cheeks. She felt herself tense at the boy's eyes that were examining like a slab of meat. She swayed her hips a little more to tease them. Everyone knew she was with McKinley's quarterback Finn Hudson. They also knew that they hadn't had sex and that she wouldn't put out, but that didn't stop them from drooling over her.

She found Finn waiting for her against the far wall, a near full bottle of beer in his hand and a dopey grin on his face. "Hey," She greeted him with a kiss.

"Hey," He said back. She slipped under his arm showing everyone in the room who she belonged to. Boys sucked their teeth in frustration looking away while girls rolled their eyes enviously.

"Where's Puck?" She asked after a while. He was the host of the party by default since it was his house.

Finn shrugged. "I think he, uh, went to get more drinks or something."

She snatched the bottle out of Finn's hand and he frowned. "Don't drink a lot, okay? You remember what happened last time."

She came up for food poising for the reason Finn was throwing up in the backseat of her mom's car. She knew that lie wouldn't work again. Finn nodded and Quinn handed the bottle back to him after taking a drink herself.

The party was lame, as all the ones through her freshmen year had been. Someone told her that sophomore parties were better because they were little braver and got more booze and did crazier stuff, but Quinn found them just the same.

Someone turned the music to something good and everyone started to dance. Quinn left Finn's side to join a couple of squad girls and other football players. Someone passed her a drink and she sipped it just to go along with the flow.

"Hey ma," Someone grabbed her hips.

Quinn turned around and swatted Puck's hands from her. "Paws off, Puckerman," She warned but only teasingly.

Since Puck was Finn's best friend, Quinn had fallen into a sort of friendship with him, though she knew he wanted her more than that. To his dismay, she had picked his freakishly tall best friend. She wouldn't admit that his jealousy made her happy and the way he looked at her made her feel good.

After a while, she took it a little farther with Puck. When Finn wasn't around, she'd tease him, rubbing in his face that he couldn't have her. It was wrong, Quinn knew it was wrong, but she felt powerful doing it. Everyone else at school said she could have any guy she wanted and having Puck chase after her while she was with Finn just proved it. When she kissed him, it proved it more.

They were at his house waiting for Finn. Puck was on the floor playing video games and Quinn was cradled in his lap watching him play until she got bored and started to distract him. He threw his controller down to get her to leave him alone when she kissed him. It was slow and soft at first, but how much Puck liked her started to show through and she was lost in the taste of his tongue and the rough way he handled her.

"I'm just tryin to dance with you." He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows and cupped her hips again.

She allowed him and they started to dance. The music switched to something slower and Puck pulled her into him. She glanced at Finn still standing across the room to see if he was bothered but he didn't seem to mind. Of course not. He trusted his best friend. He trusted his best friend too much.

The party dragged on and Quinn was buzzed. She hadn't intended on drinking enough to get her there, but she had lost track of how many drinks she was taking the longer she danced. She left Puck's arms a few times to dance with others, but in the end she was back pressed up against him, his hips on hers.

A warm, tingle started in her stomach and the amount of alcohol in her veins wanted to heed to it. She hooked her thumbs in Puck's belt loops and felt his hips roll against hers slowly, the bulge in his pants grinding against her. It sent a sensation coursing through her that would've been easy to ignore if her mind was her own. But it wasn't.

"Wanna go upstairs?" Puck whispered into her ear.

She saw Finn across the way in the game room with another football guy playing foosball. "Finn," She said back turning to face him.

"He won't find out,"

"You promise?" He nodded and he led her away, up into his bedroom and shut the door.

When it was over, Quinn sat on the edge of the bed staring at her clothes thrown on the floor. Even through her intoxication, guilt started to pour in. Her boyfriend was just in the other room. How could she have done that? And with his best friend.

Puck came up next to her and kissed her softly. Accomplishment was written all over his face. She closed her eyes and looked away.

"Finn can never find out." She said.

"He won't, babe," She smiled at the confidence in his voice. She got up to put her clothes back on. She was feeling sick.

"You promise, right?" She had to ask before she slipped out of his room.

"I promise, Quinn,"

-/-/-/-

Quinn flew into her apartment, ignoring Rachel's groggy question from the couch in the living area. She hurried to her room and shut the door. Rachel knocked on it begging for her to open it but she didn't.

Falling onto her mattress, Quinn pulled her legs to her chest, that same crushing feeling she had gotten when the pregnancy test showed a little plus sign pressed down onto her like the weight of a planet.

So much for promises.

_Til Next Chapter_


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

The fragrance of vanilla and hazelnut coffee tickled Quinn's nose as she roused from her slumber. A smile found its way onto her face. Rachel knew exactly what made her feel better.

Sitting up in bed, Quinn had to pull her blankets off her skin. They came away blotched with blue, purple, orange and green paint. Ripping them off her mattress, she balled up her soiled blankets and threw them into the pile by her door. Her dirty clothes soon joined them and she slipped on an oversized t-shirt that hung off one shoulder.

As she turned the lock on her door, she winced. She had shut Rachel out. It had been a while since she'd done that, but then again, it had been a while since Quinn broke down how she did.

She pushed her door open and was greeted with the overwhelming smell of the coffee and a breakfast she knew was for her because she was the only one who ate bacon and eggs in the apartment. Showing up in the threshold of the small hallway that led into the kitchen area, she caught sight of Rachel flipping a stack of freshly made bacon onto a plate.

Along with the bacon and eggs was a stack of waffles. Quinn sighed. This wasn't just food to make her feel better, it was food to get her to talk. She took a deep breath and padded into the kitchen.

"Morning," She said. Her voice was dry and brittle.

Rachel slapped her French toast onto a plate and put her bowl of fruit on the plate next to it. "Good morning," She said easily.

"You made breakfast."

"You're extremely observant this morning," Rachel shot a look over her shoulder to survey her roommate. "I know you're not going to sit at my table looking like you were pummeled with a thousand paintballs."

"What? You don't like my look?" She did a twirl. Rachel made a face. "Fine," She turned back towards her room. "Don't start without me."

Shooting Rachel a warning glare, Quinn hurried to gather fresh clothes and jumped in the shower. The water was burning on her skin and the scrub left her skin feeling raw and open. She rubbed a towel through her hair and went back to the kitchen getting her and Rachel's plates that sat in the oven to keep warm. She sat down opposite Rachel and gave her silent prayer for her meal. She didn't do much praying anyone, but the blessing before eating had always stuck.

Once her head was up, Rachel spoke. "You were street painting last night."

Quinn nodded. "It's been a while." She peered down at her coffee debating on whether to drink it black. "It was very liberating."

"Oh?" Rachel forked her French toast. "How much did you make?"

"Almost three hundred dollars."

"What?" Rachel dabbed her face with a napkin. "How did you managed to swindle people out of that much money?"

"You say it like my artwork isn't worth anything then the dust it would collect sitting around the apartment."

"No, no, not what I'm saying." Quinn's eyebrow arched. "How many did you sell?"

"All eleven,"

"You did eleven paintings?" Quinn nodded, chewing a slab of bacon slowly. Rachel rolled her eyes. "A lot on your mind?"

"We're far past the point where asking direct questions shouldn't be difficult."

"I was building up to it, but if you insists," She swallowed down a gulp of apple juice to wet her throat. "What happened last night?"

Quinn opened her mouth to speak, but the words were stuck in her throat. She leaned back in her seat, her mind bringing back her night and where it had led her mind. Seconds ticked by, and still she said nothing. Rachel went back to eating, giving her time to let everything process. It shouldn't have been hard for Quinn to talk about things that Rachel already knew, but trying to made her tongue numb and her stomach wave uncomfortably.

She cut through the last of her waffles and chewed each morsel slowly. After each bite, she took a sip of her coffee hoping to start speaking, but her throat remained dry.

She reached for her cup once more, but nothing but a drop was left. She sighed and sat back in her seat, hands clasped in her lap and eyes on her empty plate.

"I haven't thought about that night in a long time." She said finally.

She saw Rachel's fork stop in mid-motion. "You mean the night Puck-"

Quinn shook her head quickly to stop the words before they came of Rachel's mouth. "The night we had sex."

"Oh," Rachel placed down her fork, last of her French toast forgotten. "What made you think about that?"

"Brittany,"

Her brow furrowed with chagrin while Rachel's did in confusion. Taking a deep breath, Quinn relayed her night. She told about the height and the euphoria she felt being out on the streets once again, and Brittany showing up and dragging her to the paint party. She told how fun it had been, though she didn't think it would've been, and the way Brittany had danced with her, on her, and how it sent her mind back to the night she had given her virginity away to Puck.

"It hit me really hard," She concluded, her eyes slowly making there way up to meet Rachel's. "I don't know why. One moment I was fine then the next…"

Getting up, Rachel took away their dishes, taking them to the sink. "Maybe it's a good thing that it did come back to you." She said over the run of the tap. "Like you said before, it has been a long time, and like I told you before, you can't keep holding all of that inside, Quinn. Just telling me, even though you didn't really tell me as much as I lived through a lot of it with you, it will come out."

"Thank you, Dr. Phil," She ticked. "Are you going to ask me how that makes me feel next?"

"Your sarcasm is ineffective when you're angry, you do know this?" Quinn rolled her eyes. "Now, hurry and fix your hair so we can go."

"Go where?" She asked scooting out of the booth.

Rachel turned off the water and dried her hands on a towel. "To the dance studio so you can apologies to Brittany for running out on her."

"And why can't I go on my own?"

"Because," Rachel tossed the towel over her shoulder and walked up to Quinn, turning her around. "You won't ever do it."

"You think you know me well, don't you?"

"I do know you, Quinn," She gave her a push towards her room.

-/-/-/-

Quinn followed Rachel into the dance studio. Out of the many times she had walked past it, she had never cared to look inside. Nor would she have picked out that the blonde doing fortes in the middle of the floor for a group of girls would be someone she'd become acquainted with.

The cool breeze of the air condition whooshed out as they stepped in. Rachel let out a sigh of relief at being off the heated streets and Quinn striped off her sunglasses to look around.

The studio was one large room with mirrors lining the back wall and a ballet barre. A sign that read 'Office' hung above a cracked open door on the far right wall and adjacent to it was a restroom. Girls, Quinn figured to be elementary school age, were doing turns on the glossy wooden floor while a group of boys did tumbles on a mat against the far left wall.

Standing in front of the girls with her back turned to Rachel and Quinn, was Brittany laughing and instructing. She held up her hands for the girls to stop and showed them her forte before they repeated her move not near as perfect and graceful that she had done it.

Quinn glared at Rachel who was hiding her laugh behind her hand. Quinn could only imagine the critiques going off in her roommate's head. She was surprised she hadn't already marched over to the youngest looking girl in the class who wasn't participating to show her how it was done. Quinn figured it was because Rachel knew she couldn't execute the move near as flawlessly as Brittany had. She smirked.

"Miss Brittany," The girl who had given up on her forte said.

Brittany stepped out of her spin, her blonde ponytail whipping into her face. "Yes, Desiree?" The girl pointed a finger at the two girls still standing by the entrance.

Brittany followed it, a wide smile coming to her lips when she realized whom her visitors were. She held up one finger to them before skipping over to a CD player mounted on a stool in the corner. She clicked it on, switching it to CD. Girly, pop music blared from the speakers and the girls started to groove to the familiar beat and lyrics.

"Free style until your parents get here?" Brittany asked. The girls all cheered and started to dance with one another. The boys on the tumbling mat exchanged looks before picking up their bags and leaving.

Brittany waved to them as they walked out of the studio, herself striding over to where Rachel and Quinn were.

"Hi," She greeted, as Quinn knew she would.

Rachel was the first to speak. "Hello, Brittany," Rachel looked past her to survey the young dancers again. "Have you been teaching here long? I don't think I've ever seen you the times I've passed by coming from the coffee shop."

"You never had a reason to notice me before." She answered with a smirk.

Rachel pursed her lips. "That may very well be correct, but you must've worked here for a while."

She nodded, peering over her shoulder to make sure everything was going smoothly. "I worked here every summer when me and Mike aren't touring with our dance group." She turned back to them, her head titled to one side. "Well…before he got married."

"Does he own the studio?" Quinn asked.

Brittany's eyes flicked to her like she had just noticed there was someone along with Rachel. Her smile turned crooked. "It's mine now,"

"That's an accomplishment," Rachel said still looking off. "Mind if I?" She motioned to the girls dancing.

"Go ahead," Brittany laughed. Quinn shook her head at Rachel going to join the younger girls dancing. Her view of obstructed when Brittany stepped directly in front of her. "Hi, Quinn,"

"Hi, Brittany," She hooked her thumbs in her belt loops of her jean shorts. "Nice studio," She said instead of jumping into the apology. Brittany's smile widened to show teeth. "I never noticed it before or you."

"That's because you weren't looking."

"No, I never was."

"Now you have a reason to." Quinn watched Brittany's eyes take her in again. She had been waiting for it, and just like the other times, she felt her skin crawl. "Did you have something to say to me?" She asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

Brittany stepped sideways and turned to face the studio so she was standing next to Quinn. She felt small in her shadow. "It's okay about last night." Quinn turned to look up at her but Brittany's eyes were on Rachel who was bumping hips with one of the girls. "I could tell you were upset. It's okay."

"I had fun,"

"I know," Blue eyes made there way down to her. "So why did you run away?" Her tongue traced her teeth behind her frowning lip. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"No, you didn't." She said quickly. "It's…I had a lot on my mind before and it caught up to me."

"Is that why you paint so much?" Quinn's eyebrow rose. Brittany's smile canceled out her frown and she looked away. "That's why I dance so much."

Quinn scoffed. "I don't think they're for the same reason."

Brittany looked hurt. "Do you know my reason?"

"No, but I can bet it's not the same."

"Will you show me why?"

Quinn looked up at her, eyes narrowing. "It's a little personal,"

"Okay," She said.

The door behind them opened and in walked a couple of parents to some of the girls. Brittany left Quinn's side to greet them with warm hugs. A handful of girls left the dancing mob to hug Brittany before leaving out the door.

Leaning against the window that served as the front wall, Quinn watched Brittany join Rachel. She grabbed her hands and twirled her around. Rachel's laugh mixed in with Brittany's clashing with the music. She watched as Brittany began her dance around Rachel like she had done Quinn, but her hands never touched anything but Rachel's hands when they spun again.

The music played on and, one by one, girls were taken away by parents until the three of them were left in the studio. Panting and laughing, Rachel fell to the floor and Brittany followed her down. Leaning over, Brittany whispered something to Rachel.

Quinn straightened up, her head cocked in their direction to try and hear what was being said, but the booming music was too loud. Rachel glanced over at Quinn looking baffled but whatever Brittany said next changed her expression and she nodded.

Standing up, Brittany dusted off her pants and waltzed to the CD player to turn off the music.

"Do you want us to wait while you lock up?" Rachel asked struggling to her feet. Brittany shook her head as she unplugged the player. "Then we'll see you tonight?" _Tonight? _

"Tonight," Brittany echoed. Quinn gaped at her from where she stood. Brittany bit her lip and winked before disappearing into the office.

Rachel tugged on her shoulder to lead them out of the studio and back under the hellish rays of the sun. "Mind if we get something to drink?" She fanned herself, walking in the direction of the coffee shop.

Once they were inside drinks ordered and at a table, Quinn asked, "Why did you invite Brittany over?"

Rachel sat back. "She told me that you had invited her but that she needed to ask if I was okay with it first. I didn't think to double check with you if you had already extended an invitation."

Quinn laughed, nails scratching the back of her neck. "I can't believe her."

Rachel sucked her drink up the straw. "I see nothing wrong with having her over one night."

Quinn's tone darkened. "It won't just be one night."

"You're planning on doing it more than once?"

"What?" She looked confused. Rachel bit her lip to keep her laugh inside. It clicked. "Rachel!"

"It was only an assumption." She said innocently. "Why else would she trick us into inviting herself over?"

"If she had to trick us, then why would you think I wanted to have sex with her? I would've asked her to come."

"No you wouldn't. You'd be too embarrassed to." Quinn opened her mouth to protest but closed it. She blushed when Rachel started to laugh. "She'd be really flexible."

"Rachel, _please_," She pressed her fingers to her temple. "Before I reach across this table and strangle you."

"I'm done, I'm done," She drank down half of her drink. "But it is interesting."

"What is?"

"How you weren't exactly opposed to the idea of having sex with her. You said you'd ask if you wanted to, but didn't turn the idea down completely."

Quinn restrained herself from reaching out and smacking the smirk off Rachel's lips. She sipped at her drink, a smile screwed on her face. "You're sleeping outside tonight."

"Better outside then hearing you scream her name all night."

Quinn laughed when Rachel flinched at her hand coming towards her face, just missing her nose and making her spill her drink on her outfit.

The silent treatment she received was worth it.

-/-/-/-

Brittany showed up brandishing a box of extra large, cheese pizza and a six-pack of wine coolers. The information that Rachel was a vegan left her lips as soon as she saw the pizza box. Brittany offered to go out and get something that she could eat, but Rachel informed them that Jesse called her over and would be leaving in a couple hours. Quinn knew for a fact that Rachel had been the one to call Jesse, not the other way around.

Quinn sat next to Rachel at their booth, her mouth never closing as she talked to Brittany. She talked about her singing, how it was her dream to be on Broadway, how she hadn't gotten it and it crushed her dreams for years until Jesse, her dear, dear Jesse, got her back on her feet.

She talked about how she and Quinn went to the same school and had lived together, but nothing that gave away their past. She talked about how she knew Jesse was going to propose and the possibility of them moving to New York together.

Brittany nodded and asked questions and sipped her drink and nibbled her pizza all throughout without losing her enthusiastic grin. Quinn wasn't sure it was fake or not. No one could sit so happily through Rachel running her mouth. She waited for Brittany's façade to falter but it never did. She joined in on the conversation.

Brittany told them about her touring with Mike and how he was settled down now that he was married. How she missed touring and how she felt like she was imposing on Mike and Tina now that they were hitched.

She told them how she got started dancing after seeing _The Nutcracker _ballet when she was younger and wanted to perform it one day and how she met Mike and they actually did it together later on.

She told them that Jesse's show was her first stage performance and she wanted to do more if only for the experience. She had no plans on leaving and going anywhere else. She loved where she ended up and she loved the studio and teaching the kids to follow her dream like she had.

Then Rachel got personal.

"So," Rachel licked the opening of the wine cooler bottle. "Who was that you were with at the coffee shop that one day I saw you? Are you two close, and by close I mean dating."

Quinn's head slipped off her hand where it rested and Brittany shot her a smirk. "No," She answered, reaching for another slice of pizza. She bit into it. The cheese left a string from her mouth to the slice and she rolled it around her finger.

"No?"

"Santana and I," She paused as if looking for the right words. "We're friends."

"What sort of friends?" Rachel pressed. Quinn bore her eyes into her skull hoping she could feel the lasers she was shooting into her.

Brittany didn't seem to notice, or mind. "Very close friends."

Just like Rachel, Quinn was bothered by Brittany's vagueness. Rachel sucked in a breath to try once again but Quinn squeezed her thigh under he table. Rachel made a sound in the back of her throat and glared at Quinn. Brittany laughed under her breath just as Rachel's phone buzzed.

She picked it up off the table. "You're home? Okay, I'll be right over." An awestruck smile found its way onto Rachel's lips. Quinn always teased her about how cheesy she got when it came to Jesse. "In a bit. I love you, too. Bye."

She closed her phone and stood. "Well ladies, I know it's highly unfortunate that I have been called out like this, but I must leave you for the night."

"Unfortunate to who?" Quinn mumbled beneath her breath.

"Ha-ha, Quinn," She ducked into her room for a moment, reemerging with her purse and shoes on her feet. "I'll be back in the morning. Take care of Quinn for me won't you Brittany? No sugar for her after ten."

"She's in safe hands, Miss Berry," Brittany played along and Quinn huffed. "She'll be in bed before midnight."

"I'm sure she will," Rachel winked. Quinn's face flushed when she saw Brittany return it, her eyes darting over to Quinn for a moment. "Goodnight and thanks for coming over. Don't be a stranger to us."

"That would be hard now that I've met you."

"Bye Rachel!" Quinn said before anymore could come out of her mouth.

The door clicked and she was gone.

An awkward silence fell over the two women. Quinn picked at her cold slice of pizza while Brittany quietly finished her piece. She kept her eyes downcast but she could still feel Brittany's eyes watching her. She looked up to ask what it was she wanted, but Brittany's attention was out the window beside them. Maybe she was just paranoid.

Pizza finished, Quinn got up to clear the table. When she turned back around, Brittany had moved to the sitting room crouched in front of their stand that held the movies. Her fingers slid down the spines as she read the titles. Grabbing one, she pulled it out. _Beauty and The Beast. _What was she? Six?

"Mind if we?" Brittany asked.

Quinn took it away from her with no word and popped it into the DVD player. Brittany crossed hers legs on one end of the couch while Quinn sat at the other end as far away from her as she could.

The movie started and all Quinn could think about was how may times Rachel had watched it when she was auditioning for the role of Belle back in high school at a community theatre. She wanted to get her character just right, so she would pause the movie after a line and repeat it and ask Quinn,

"How was that?"

"Good, Rach. It was good." She'd say flipping through her history book.

"Are you even paying attention to me?"

"Though I might fail my history test tomorrow, yes."

Rachel would then rewind the movie and do it again. When she got the part, Quinn bought a pair of earplugs to block out the soundtrack and Rachel's singing she did all through the night and morning. She loved Rachel, Quinn did, but her obsessive perfectionism drove her up the wall at times.

Belle popped on the screen as the town started singing, and Quinn eyed Brittany who was mouthing the words along with it. By the time _Be Our Guest _began to play, Brittany had sprawled out on the couch with her head resting in Quinn's lap.

Quinn could hear her singing under her breath as she watched. She bit back a smirk.

"What about you?" Brittany asked during The Beast and Gaston's fight.

Quinn looked down to see blue eyes staring up at her. Between her fingers, she held bright, blonde hair having started playing with Brittany's. She let the strands fall.

"What about me?"

"I know all about Rachel," Brittany lifted a hand to touch Quinn's hair. She twirled a strand around her index finger. "But you didn't tell me about you."

"Is that important?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" Quinn felt the denial creep up to her tongue. She bit down and nodded. "And friends know each other."

She rolled her eyes because, seriously? How old were they? "What do you want to know?"

Brittany's eyes widened and she smiled turning onto her back so she wouldn't have to strain her neck to look at Quinn. Her hair tickled Quinn's bare leg. "Everything,"

"No."

"Then," Her hand pushed up further to comb through Quinn's hair. She resisted the urge to pull away. Rachel said she was touchy feely. It meant nothing. It was just how Brittany was. "Why are you here and not in Ohio?"

"I wanted to move away from home."

"From Rachel?"

"No," She corrected. "From Lima. Rachel went to New York so I moved too."

"Lima's a long way away,"

"Exactly,"

"What were you running away from?"

"Who said I was running from something?" Quinn shifted, turning her neck so Brittany's fingers were out of her hair. She dropped her hand. "Next question."

"Why do you paint?" She asked immediately.

"Rachel got me into it."

Brittany blinked a couple times studying Quinn. "You love Rachel,"

It wasn't a question but Quinn found herself answering. "Yes,"

"But she has Jesse."

"Yes, but," She coughed out an uneasy laugh.

It wasn't the first time someone assumed that she and Rachel were more then close friends. People were always quick to jump to conclusions when they saw two pretty girls walk with each other laughing and slapping shoulders and not minding if their arms brushed together.

"Me and Rachel aren't-"

"-I know," She nodded. Quinn had read Brittany wrong. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. "But she has Jesse and you have no one."

"I'm sorry, but you have no right to say that to me." Quinn pushed Brittany's shoulder willing her to sit up.

"Quinn, I-"

"No," She stood up, tossing the remote control into Brittany's lap. "I want you gone when I get out of the shower."

"Quinn-"

Quinn heard Brittany start as she walked away into her room. Her defenses were up and her heart was fluttering in her chest. Anger coiled in her stomach, appalled that Brittany, someone who didn't even know her, had said something like that to her. She hated it when Rachel would. With a stranger, it was worse. It hurt her more.

She dug through her drawers to find a change of clothes and threw them onto her bed before going for the shower not even glancing to see if Brittany was gone or not though the movie had been shut off. She turned the water on cold and stepped under the cold stream.

Her breath caught in her throat when the water first hit her skin. The cold seeped through her skin and to her muscles cooling her off. She looked down at her hands to see them quacking. Picking up the shampoo, she squeezed a glob into her palm and ran it through her hair.

She hated how worked up she got over the subject, how easily Brittany was triggering things inside of her and bringing them to the surface. Rachel was different. Rachel already knew. Brittany didn't know anything and somehow she was picking into her, putting tiny pieces together and getting under her skin. Getting under her skin in more ways than one.

Quinn scrubbed her hair where Brittany had been touching it. She could feel the ghost of her fingertips that touched her scalp. She scrubbed harder to erase the gentle feeling, to forget how comforting and soft it had been, to forget how she wanted to lean into it and let her message her scalp with soft, sender fingers.

Her fingers turned wrinkly and she turned off the water stepping out. She let out a long breath feeling at ease once again. She ran a towel through her hair then clipped it into a messy bun on top of her head.

She wrapped the towel around her body and opened the door, ears straining for any sound.

The TV and lights were shut off. A guilty twinge plucked in her gut. She hadn't needed to be as snippy with Brittany as she was. She sighed knowing she'd apologize the next time she saw her.

Quinn slipped into her room and flicked on the light. If it weren't for her movement, Quinn would've looked over Brittany sitting cross-legged on her mattress.

Everything that she had just washed down the drain flared up once again. "I thought I said I wanted you gone when I got out."

"Quinn," Brittany stood up in one fluid motion. Her eyes were sad, genuinely sad, and her mouth was a frown. "I'm sorry for making you upset again." She tucked her hair behind her ear sheepishly. "I didn't mean to offend you. I just…"

"You just what?" She placed one hand firmly on her hip while the other clenched the towel tightly closed.

Brittany's head angled down so she peered at Quinn through her translucent eyebrows. "I'm sorry,"

Quinn sighed. "There are some things you can't say to people, Brittany."

"Even if it's the truth?"

Quinn's jaw flexed to keep back the harsh retort. "You're not making your apology any better, you do know that?"

"Does that mean you're not going to let me stay the night?" Quinn gapped. Brittany chewed her bottom lip. "It's just, it's late and…" Quinn ran her hand down her face in irritation. "I'm sorry. I'll go. I-"

"Stay," She caught Brittany's shoulder and pulled her back into the room. She looked up into her eyes, her voice dropping. "You can stay."

They paused for a long moment. Quinn stared up into Brittany's eyes that weren't sure about her request. Quinn took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to let her anger flow out of her. Brittany hardly knew anything. Brittany hardly knew her. She hadn't needed to get so worked up over the things she said.

"Please," Quinn dropped her hand from the dancer's shoulder. "Stay,"

Brittany blinked a few times before saying, "Okay,"

Quinn side stepped her and grabbed her clothes off her bed. Instead of kicking Brittany out of her room, she left to get clothed in the bathroom before coming back. She dug through her clothes for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt big and long enough for Brittany to wear. The shorts ended up being an inch shorter than appropriate and the shirt barely touched the waistband.

Because of her rudeness, Quinn couldn't find the heart to kick Brittany onto the couch. She wouldn't have fit anyway. She let her take her mattress and grabbed blankets from the closet to sleep on the couch herself.

"Quinn," Brittany called after her after she said goodnight.

She stepped back into the threshold. "Yes?"

Brittany crossed her legs on the middle of the mattress. Quinn forced her eyes to say on her face and not dip to the exposed plain of white skin the shorter than normal shorts exposed.

"You don't have to hide from me." She said easily like they had been good friends and she was trying to help her out.

Quinn pushed on a soft smile. "I've hidden from everyone else," She said, her hand reaching for the light switch. "What's another person?"

She flicked the light off and went for the couch.

But not even the darkness could hide her from Brittany's eyes.

_Til Next Chapter_


	5. Chapter V

_AN: Many thanks for all the recs, favs, reviews, alerts and reading. Short chapter. Enjoy._

**Chapter V**

Brittany was sitting on top of an overturned trashcan behind Quinn while she painted over the same slab of wood that she had during the first week run of the show. They were on their third night of the third week of shows, and Quinn was made to stay late while the pianist went over a solo with Thoms and the dancers practiced a new step Mike added into one of their dances.

When they were done dancing, Brittany hugged Mike goodbye and found Quinn backstage. The pianist and Thoms' voices grew loud without the music playing to drown it out.

It was the third night of the third week and Brittany was still with them. Since she had stayed over the one night, Brittany hadn't left and Rachel didn't mind the third edition one bit.

"Now you have a playmate." She teased her one morning when she came over to find Quinn on the couch instead of in her room. Quinn threatened to sneak real milk into her coffee if she kept up with her jokes.

Quinn dragged the paintbrush over the old colors and glanced over her shoulder to look at the observer. Brittany never raised a question about what Quinn was painting. Her eyes were always drawn up at the paint like she was mesmerized by it.

This time when Quinn turned over her shoulder, Brittany was looking at her. It made her stomach flutter. When Brittany looked at her it was never just a look. It was always laced with something, something that Quinn couldn't place.

She always felt watched when Brittany was around. Like she was examining her, trying to learn her, trying to read her like a picture book. And maybe Brittany could, but the perplexed knit of her brow told Quinn she was no picture book, but a textbook full of unknown words and complex philosophies.

She knew Brittany was observant. She seemed to be able to guess everything about someone with one sweep of her eyes, and because of it, Brittany knew how to act. Quinn picked up on it when she, Rachel and Brittany went shopping one evening.

Quinn trailed behind them listening. Watching them, Quinn would've gathered that Brittany had known, and really known, Rachel for more than a year. Even with Rachel blabbing all about herself, there were subtle things that were Rachel that only Quinn knew about that Brittany picked up on.

Things like how Rachel didn't like people walking on her right side because it was her good side. Brittany always made sure to be on her left and a step behind her to not upstage her. How Brittany always knew the right way to give her 'mhm's' and 'uh huh's' when Rachel rambled on to not make her feel like she wasn't really being listened to. How Rachel would say things just to see Quinn fluster. Brittany played along each time.

But, Quinn noticed, Brittany couldn't do it with her. It wasn't that she didn't notice things, because Brittany did. She knew she made Quinn nervous, she knew Quinn didn't like being by herself and would be sitting in the living area in front of the couch when she woke up. And she knew Quinn was painting to hide herself away. But she never knew exactly how to act.

So, Brittany watched her. Always watched her.

"Are you ready to go?" Quinn asked, turning back to the board. The music director had shouted his goodbye to her and was gone, taking Thoms with him.

They were alone in the theatre.

"No," She answered. A beat of silence passed before Brittany spoke again. "You have a scar on your back."

Quinn brought down her arm turning to look at her. "How do you-" She didn't finish. She knew how Brittany had seen it, and now that she had sucked it up and moved back into her room to sleep at night, Brittany could see it clearer each night.

"When did you get it?" She asked carefully. That was a slight change. Brittany had become careful of how she spoke to Quinn. She didn't want to step over the boundaries. She would tip toe over them.

Quinn sighed as she threw the brush down on the ground. Paint already decorated the floor so she didn't care to add to the mess.

"My sophomore year of high school."

"How?" Quinn smiled and Brittany nodded. "Too many questions?"

"Too sensitive of a question." She gestured for Brittany to get up and follow her.

"Rachel is the only one who knows." Brittany stated. Quinn nodded even though it wasn't really a question. Brittany titled her head to one side. "You can trust me,"

"There isn't a reason for me to tell you all of those things. It's in the past and that's where I'd like to keep them."

"So is this," Brittany pulled up the pants leg of her sweats to show a long scar from her knee to half way down her calf.

Quinn had seen the scar before. She shrugged. "What about it?"

"The car accident me and Mike were in after graduation was in the past, but when I dance my leg still aches sometimes."

Quinn sighed heavily and motioned for Brittany to follow her through the theatre to shut off the lights. "Thank you, Brittany. I'll keep that in mind whenever my back starts aching."

Brittany's brow furrowed, flipping off the house lights and bounced after Quinn towards the exit doors. "I never said anything about your back."

"Brittany," She stopped them outside of the theatre. "I understand what you're saying and it's very poetic and cute, but I'm fine, okay? My back is fine, my heart is fine and I'm fine. Even if I wasn't, what makes you think that you could help that?"

"I can't do that for you." She touched the side of Quinn's face, her fingers so cold they burned. "You can trust me, Quinn. I promise."

_Promise. _

"You've known me for a little over a month, Britt. How could you possibly-"

The buzz of her phone cut off her words. She held the phone up to her ear not even able to get out a hello when Rachel started screaming.

"We're engaged!"

Her stomach dropped.

-/-/-/-

"I'm going to New York,"

Quinn knew Rachel's intentions since the first day they began to talk. She couldn't escape Rachel's dream no matter what she did. Musical posters, musical soundtracks, playbills, show tunes, everything that surrounded Quinn told her where Rachel would be going once they graduated. Yet, it didn't prepare her for the finality in Rachel's voice a week before their graduation.

She clumsily slid a picture from her freshmen year into her senior scrapbook. It fell to the bottom of the page behind the plastic film and she reached her hand in to pull it back up to where it belonged. She was smiling in the picture, in her cheerleading uniform hanging off the neck of the captain at the time. Quinn debated whether or not to include her freshmen year in her memories. Rachel told her she should even if she left out hers sophomore year. At least the first year had been good to her.

"Did you hear me Quinn?" Rachel sank down onto the couch behind where Quinn sat with her legs tucked under a coffee table as she worked.

She nodded. "I've known that before I even knew who you were, Rach. It's nothing new."

"I'm leaving right after graduation." That was new.

Quinn shifted to turn and look up at Rachel. She was staring down at her, watching her carefully. A strawberry juicebox was clutched in her hand. She sipped it once, still looking at Quinn letting it sink in. Rachel wasn't supposed to leave until after the summer.

"Why?"

"I don't want to sit around here for a summer when there are so many opportunities going on up there." She explained. "I want to get out of here and get started on my dream as soon as I can. I talked to my dads about it and they think it's a good idea."

"You didn't talk to me." The accusatory tone seeped into her voice.

She saw her summer plans with Rachel fade away. They were going to go shopping together. Quinn was going to help Rachel shop for her new style that fit into her new territory and Rachel was going to help Quinn shop for the dorm she'd be living in when she left for college.

They were going to go to the park and ignore the little kids and play the way they would when they were younger. They were going to walk around Lima and reminisce about every place they went. They were going to…

"Why didn't I know?"

"I'm telling you now."

Quinn chocked out an angry laugh. "You must've come up with this decision a while ago if you've already talked to your dads about it. Why didn't you talk to me first? You always talk to me first."

"I know, and I'm sorry, but it was sort of a spur of the moment thing after one day, and I went to talk to my dads. It only became I final decision this morning, so I'm telling you now that it's final."

Quinn felt her chest start to cave in. Rachel was leaving? So soon? Only seven more days and Rachel would be gone. Rachel, the person who had been her anchor, her strength, her hope of something grander was walking away.

"What about…" She licked her dry lips. "What about me? I can't move onto campus until the end of summer."

"You can stay here until then."

"Without you?"

"You're hardly a guest in my house anymore, Quinn." Small fingers dug through her hair. Quinn leaned into Rachel's strokes needing that comforting touch. "My dad's practically see you as their daughter."

"And my sister is abandoning me." She turned away, tearing eyes catching her scrapbook.

Pictures were spread across the coffee table. Quinn picked out her and Rachel. The majority of the snapshots had been taken by Rachel. Her and her dads had something with taking pictures. They were all around the Berry house. Smiling faces and captured warm moments. Quinn had eased into them and now a picture of her and Rachel sandwiched between her dads was mounted on the wall above the TV. She had become a part of the family and, everyday, Rachel was there, as a reminder that she was a part of their family, and she would never be pushed away no matter what.

It amazed Quinn how strongly she had held onto that. She didn't have to hide behind false smiles and silent prayers. If she was sad, she showed that she was sad. If she wanted to scream at God for putting her through so much, she did just that. She didn't have to keep herself looking her absolute best when she walked outside. Rachel showed her that sweatpants and t-shirts were just as comfortable and acceptable.

If she was too troubled to sleep alone at night, she didn't have to clench a teddy bear to her chest or squeeze the cross around her neck in search of peace. She stirred Rachel from her sleep and sank into the covers beside her. She had never known such comfort in the people that loved her.

She was attached. So very attached to Rachel Berry, to her dads, to the house, to everything they gave her. It physically pained her knowing it was over. What she had just gotten was being taken from her. Those three years had compensated for her first fifteen years of living, but only to an extent. She needed more.

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel slid off the couch to sit next to her on the floor.

Thin arms wrapped around her and Quinn felt herself being pulled down into Rachel's chest. She fisted the front of Rachel's shirt holding her in place.

"You'll be okay," Rachel said into her ear, her warm breath tickling the side of her neck. "You'll get out of Lima just like you wanted and you'll go to the school of your choice, live where you want, eat what you want and wear as many sweatpants and t-shirts as you want."

Quinn laughed a tiny laugh under her chin. She felt Rachel's chest vibrate in her own laugh. "And I'll follow my dream and not a day will go by that I won't call you or text you just to see if you're doing alright. And I'll come and visit, you know that right?"

"I know," Quinn brushed away her own tear.

It was the soothing way Rachel had said everything that made her feel better. The words themselves were still sad, but the promise of calls and text and visit, no matter how scarce they were, eased her quivering heart.

"Don't forget about me when you're famous, okay?"

Rachel kissed her hair and pulled her tighter. "Never,"

Yet, when Quinn pulled out of Rachel's embrace at the airport a week later, she fell apart once again. She lasted a week in the Berry house alone before she up and decided to leave. She needed to start her own life again. She needed to put herself back together.

-/-/-/-

_She needed to put herself back together._

Quinn told herself that as wine glasses clinked and Rachel's frantic talking streamed out. Her eyes were on the glistening ring on her finger and the possessive arm Jesse had thrown around the back of the restaurant booth.

He was smiling bigger than Quinn had ever seen and Rachel's grin was so wide, Quinn was afraid it would stretch off her face. Every once in a while, the newly engaged couple would look over at each other and Rachel would fiddle with the ring and she'd beam and Jesse would kiss her on the temple, on the cheek, on the lips.

"I'm happy for you, Rach," Quinn said, setting her wine glass down.

And she was happy for her. She was excited for her. Her best friend was getting married to the man she was head over heels for. She'd move into a big house and keep running after her dream and would have kids packed with talent passed down from their brilliant parents.

Quinn would be her maid of honor and she'd stand up and give a sappy, yet humorous speech, and wave them away as they left for their honeymoon. Then she'd kiss them both goodbye when they moved away.

Rachel was going again.

Someone shifted against her and Quinn looked up at Brittany. She had been propped up against her since they sat down in the restaurant. She was feeling overwhelmed, the same crushing feeling she felt when The night Rachel told her she would be leaving for New York earlier than planned found residence inside of her again. Brittany kept her from keeling over. Rachel's smiles kept her from crying and Jesse's triumphant smile kept her from blurting out that he couldn't take her.

"When are you planning for the wedding?" Brittany asked. Quinn thanked her for being there. She hadn't been able to talk and ask those questions herself.

Rachel and Jesse looked at each other again. "December," Jesse answered. Quinn counted the months in her head. Six months. "Neither of us likes to wait."

"Where?"

"We were thinking Quinn could help us with that."

At hearing her name, she slipped out of her thoughts and rejoined the conversation. "Finding a place for your wedding?"

"And decorating," Rachel added. "With it being so soon, I'll be swamped with everything else so I don't want to be bogged down with a location. And I trust you Quinn. Even if the place is some run down building on the outskirts of town, I know you'll make it look more grandiose than a ballroom that would cost us hundreds of dollars."

Quinn forced on a smile. "I guess I can do that."

"Yes, you can," Rachel sipped her wine. "You'll also be coming with me to pick out a dress, the bridesmaid dresses, what kind of cake I should get, the invitations, the…"

Quinn stared at Rachel's lips but she could no longer hear what was coming out of them. Plans and dates and names of people and song titles went over her head. She nodded in response not actually taking everything in and sipped at her glass of Champaign.

"Babe," Jesse laughed tugging Rachel into her to press a soft kiss on her hair. "Don't overwhelm her."

"Oh, Quinn can handle it," She blushed and giggled at her _fiancé's _kiss. "Can't you, Quinn? I'm counting on you."

"Of course, Rach," She pushed on a smile. "I'll do whatever I can to make you and Jesse's wedding the wedding of the year."

"I expect nothing less."

Rachel dove into discussing things about how she saw her wedding and Quinn tuned out. She had heard it a thousand times over the years but it was harder to hear now that it was no longer a dream but soon a reality.

She felt Brittany's hand slide down to her thigh in comfort and she batted it away. She didn't need Brittany's comforting hand or her concerned looks. She didn't need Brittany to stand close to her in case she fell over while Jesse and Rachel waved to them before ducking into a taxi. She didn't need Brittany's strong arms to pull her into a hug when she started to cry as soon as she fell into the driver seat of her car.

She pushed her away to sit up straight in her seat.

"Quinn," Brittany reached over to touch her shoulder.

Quinn slapped it away. "Stop,"

"Let me drive,"

"I don't need you to drive, Brittany." She snapped revving the engine.

She went to adjust the gearshift when a hand covered hers. Quinn whirled her head around, a stream of harsh words on her tongue. But, when she saw the way Brittany was looking at her, her irritation flooded into sadness and she broke down into tears, her body canting over into Brittany's.

They didn't say a word while she cried. Brittany just flipped off the car and let Quinn get most of it out before switching seats with her. Quinn leaned her head against the window; her eyes barely seeing the things go by as they drove to her apartment. Her eyes flicked down to where Brittany's hand clutched hers in her lap.

Pulling into a parking place, Brittany shut off the car and got out. Quinn felt herself give way at the absence of Brittany's hand in hers, but she recovered quickly when Brittany helped her out of the car and strung an arm around her waist leading them up the steps.

The apartment was darker than Quinn remembered. She sucked in a long breath catching the familiar scents. There were new ones like the cinnamon and peppermint of Brittany, but it wasn't strong enough to cancel out the others. She took in another breath, deeper. Rachel's flowery fragrance seemed to have faded away almost completely. Her throat constricted.

Brittany turned her towards her room. "No," Quinn croaked out. "I want to take a shower." She needed to hide away and the watery cavern was always there for her.

Without a word, Brittany nodded and led her into the bathroom, flicking on the light. She stood in the center for a while watching her reflection in the mirror. What was her problem? Rachel didn't die. She was well and alive and more than happy.

She was happy.

"Quinn?" Brittany stepped in front of her. "Do you…I'm going to…" Her thin fingers found the front of her pants, her eyes looking cautiously back up at Quinn. She nodded.

Brittany undid the button of Quinn's pants and slid down the zipper, her eyes never leaving Quinn's face. Her jeans slithered down her legs and she stepped out of them. Brittany guided her down to sit on the edge of the tub. She turned on the water before pulling Quinn's shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor.

She moved to the clasps of her bra but Quinn stopped her. "I can do it," She said, her voice dry and brittle.

"Do you want me to bring you clothes?" She asked. She tested the water then turned one of the nozzles and tested it again.

Quinn shook her head, her arms wrapping around her body feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. She didn't want Brittany to see her the way she was. Not when she was half naked.

Nodding, Brittany left to fetch her a towel and left it on the sink counter. She closed the door behind her when she left and Quinn got up to discard her underwear and bra with the rest of her garments on the floor.

She stepped into the tub and pulled out the stopper. She flicked it on shower and muffled a screech in her hand when the water came out cold before getting warmer.

The heat felt good on her skin.

She closed her eyes and titled her head back into the stream. Instead of feeling things wash off her, she felt old weights press back onto her shoulder - weights that had never been taken away, but had been pushed to the back of her mind and never fully casted away. They were weights Rachel had masked with kindness and wonderful years but had never been able to take away from Quinn because Quinn never allowed her to.

Rachel had been holding them up, had been keeping them from crashing down on her, but now they were easing back down. She would have to shoulder them again. Rachel wasn't going to be around forever to keep her a float. She needed to find her own strength again. She needed to find that fire and determination and confidence she had when she paraded her cheerleading uniform through the halls of her high school.

Life may not have been its best even then, but Quinn knew how to manage. She had become soft, weak and pathetic. No. That wasn't it. She was just broken. She was broken and the flimsy splints and temporary stitches were coming undone.

Quinn wrapped herself in a towel and returned to her room. She stood at the threshold watching Brittany examine all her bottles of different paint. Who was this girl? Who was this girl that walked into her life and made her feel things she hadn't wanted to and then became her shoulder to lean on when she was starting to crack again.

"_You can't hold everything in, Quinn," _Rachel's voice boomed through the chaos going on in her skull.

"I'm a mom," The words fell out of her mouth.

Brittany looked up from where she was sitting on the mattress, pure shock in her eyes. She hadn't been expecting it. Who would? Her eyes widened and narrowed then softened.

"You're a mom?" She repeated to make sure she had heard right.

Quinn nodded still standing at the door. "I had a daughter when I was sixteen and I gave her away."

"Did you want to?"

Quinn shook her head, eyes on the floor. A lump grew in her throat and she felt the corners of her eyes sting. "I had to," She whispered.

"Come here," Brittany held out her arms.

Quinn pulled herself away from the door to sink down next to Brittany on her mattress. Long arms enveloped her, her warm body pressing into the coolness that was Brittany. She felt the heat of her bones slowly ease into Brittany and her tears start to fall more frequently as she allowed Brittany to hold her - allowed someone to hold her once again.

"I had to," She muttered again as Brittany began to rock her.

Soft lips pressed into her temple. "It's okay," Brittany said. "You had to and that's okay."

She didn't even know about her past, but Quinn heard so much reassurance in Brittany's voice that felt like she had been there all along watching her from the sidelines all those years waiting. Waiting for Quinn to allow her to step in.

"Rachel's leaving," She heard herself whisper into Brittany's chest.

"It's okay, Quinn," Warmth rushed into her neck. "I'm staying."

_I'll stay. _

_Til Next Chapter  
_


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI  
**

Brittany sat at the dining booth, one arm wrapped around a bent leg while the other rested on the table, fingers flipping the pages of a bridal gown magazine. A thin finger slipped under a glossy page turning it. It caught the light coming through the window so that it glared off her bright blonde hair for a second. One of her eyebrows rose when she found something she liked then folded the corner of the page before flipping to the next.

Leaning up against the sink counter, Quinn watched her, her head lolled to one side and her pinkie nail between her teeth. Brittany hadn't left. They were well into the last week if the second month of performances, and Brittany was still around; half moved into Quinn's apartment while Rachel was half moved out.

For a moment, Quinn let her eyes fall away from the concentrated blonde to observe a stack of boxes by the entryway that Rachel had yet to take. It made her chest ache to see them with Rachel's perfect script marking what the things were. But when she bowed her eyes back to Brittany, that pang was eased a fraction - Or maybe a little more than just a simple fraction.

The crackle of another page sounded and Brittany turned her head. Her smile was just as bright as the sun that shined behind her and Quinn blushed, turning around to pour the mugs of coffee she was supposed to be doing all along. She touched the nape of her neck, nails grazing over the tender flesh a few times. Her skin tingled and burned with each scratch.

She poured coffee into two mugs and added cream and sugar into hers with an extra spoonful into Brittany's, and waltzed over to join her at the booth.

"Find anything good?" She placed Brittany's mug down on the magazine scattered table.

Rachel had designated them to pick out a nice dress. It was stupid, really, to have them set on the task. Quinn knew they'd do all the work finding something that Rachel would look good in only for her to change her mind and pull out a new magazine and design completely different from what she had describe to them before.

Brittany took up the mug and took a sip, Her face scrunched at the lava going down her throat. "It's hot," Quinn warned too late.

"I didn't notice," Brittany grinned. She flipped back in the magazine in front of her a couple pages and pushed it towards Quinn. "Jones and Hummel have really nice dresses."

Quinn eyed the designs. Jones and Hummel weren't cheap designers. They were expensive, very expensive, but they earned the right to price so much because their work was more than quality. They were almost as good as the most known designers used by movie stars and big names all across the country. Unfortunately, they weren't that big but it wouldn't be long until they slipped in.

"That's who Rachel and I are supposed to go see today." Quinn gulped a mouthful of coffee. Brittany's brow creased at her ability to swallow it with ease. "If it wasn't for Tina, we probably couldn't afford it."

Brittany shook her head. "I saw her in this magazine," She flipped a couple more pages. Landing on one that had a familiar looking woman draped in a magnificent dress. "See?"

Quinn's eyes widened at the picture of Tina, peering over her shoulder in the dress. "That's not a bad dress,"

"Mhmm,"

"I don't know how we're supposed to pull this all together in five months." Quinn ran her fingers through her hair, scratching at her scalp. "Jesse's talking about possibly touring the show and there's major holidays coming up and caterers and Rachel. Why are you laughing?"

"I'm only smiling," Brittany reached across the table, her soft fingers smoothing out the deep wrinkle in Quinn's forehead. "We'll get it done."

_We'll get it done. _

Quinn had stopped fighting the plural in Brittany's words. It was obvious that Brittany was a permanent residence in her home and in her life. She just couldn't find a way to push her back out. Something about Brittany made Quinn feel weak but at ease and safe and protected. She had slowly sunk into a place of Quinn where she couldn't possibly rip her out.

Her eyes flicked up to Brittany again. She was flipping through another magazine but her eyes were staring at Quinn over the edge of her mug.

"Yes, Brittany?" She blushed, looking down at the magazine Tina was in. All of the dresses were magnificent. She knew Rachel would like them. Especially since they had a line called 'The Broadway Runway'.

"Thank you for letting me live here with you."

Quinn smiled. "I'm glad I let you,"

"Me too,"

Quinn chewed on her bottom lip. She meant it. She was extremely glad for Brittany. Ever since the night of Rachel's engagement, there was a shift. She had noticed it after a few nights of waking up to Brittany sitting beside her mattress playing with her paints.

"Good morning," She'd say grinning and would touch her lips to Quinn's heavy lids.

It warmed Quinn right up. Having Brittany's presence in the apartment cancelled out the most of the pain Quinn was feeling with Rachel being gone. Brittany filled it up with her sweet smiles and her breathy voice talking over coffee and lunches. Brittany filled it up with her laughs and her spontaneous dancing throughout the rooms.

"Don't you have to go to the studio today?" Quinn asked with a slight frown. She hated it when Brittany had to go. A lot of the time, she'd tag a long.

Brittany craned her neck to look at the clock mounted on the wall. "Trying to get rid of me early?"

"No," Quinn said immediately. "I just don't want you to be late."

"I won't be late," Turning sideways, Brittany propped her feet up on the seat. She smoothed the tip of her finger around the rim of her cup. "I want you to meet someone."

Quinn held her coffee mug at her lips, eyebrow arching. "Someone?"

Brittany nodded. "Santana," Her eyes darted around Quinn's face.

At first she didn't understand why they did, but the name sunk into Quinn's brain and she remembered who this Santana was. Santana was Brittany's _friend_. That was all Quinn knew about her. That and the two hung out often. Quinn had never met her and Brittany never really talked about her. She wondered if the two were still friends.

Quinn's mouth made an 'o' shape as she finally took a drink

Brittany's head titled to one side, eyes narrowing to understand the monosyllable word. Quinn gave her nothing as she always did.

"She's asked about you," Brittany went on. "She wants to know who it is that's been keeping me away from her so much."

Quinn felt suddenly guilty. She knew how she used to feel when Jesse stole Rachel away from her for a long period of time. It wasn't a nice feeling. "You could spend more time with her."

"I know," Brittany bit her lip, looking at Quinn through her eyebrows. "But I like being with you."

Quinn used the mug to hide her smirk and used the excuse of the coffee being hot to explain her rosy cheeks. The warm liquid filtered into her stomach, dousing butterflies so they flew around sloppily in her gut.

"She'll like you," Brittany grinned up at her and Quinn rolled her eyes. If Santana were the type of friend Quinn was making her to be, Santana would not like her. "And I think she can help us with a ballroom for the wedding."

"Really?" Quinn perked up. She hadn't really been looking for a place just yet.

Brittany nodded. "The lady who owns the cafe San works at owns a building downtown. We had a dance party there once. Maybe we could use it."

"Maybe," She turned it over in her head. Her phone began to buzz. "Tonight?" She asked and Brittany nodded, getting up to take the mugs to the sink before Quinn answered the call from Rachel.

-/-/-/-

"How about this one?"

Rachel stepped out in another white dress. She held her arms out to present herself doing a slow spin to not mess up the train. Quinn picked her head off her hand from where she was sitting in an armchair.

She narrowed her eyes. "Isn't that the first one you had on?"

"No," Rachel said quickly. Quinn's infamous eyebrow raised and Rachel crumbled. "Okay, yes, yes it is the first one I put on. But your opinion could've changed."

"From the eleven dresses you've tried on?" Quinn groaned. "I still like the one you're wearing and the last one."

"Which do you like better?" She placed her hands on her hips, glancing at the two designers for their opinion as well.

"You're the one who's going to be paraded down the aisle, not me."

Rachel rolled her eyes, sucking her teeth. "Just pick one."

"The one you're wearing."

Rachel nodded and turned to Kurt, the Hummel part of Jones and Hummel designs. He had been made to dig out dress after dress for Rachel to try on while Mercedes, the Jones to his Hummel, helped Rachel into them.

Quinn had snickered under her breath when they thought she couldn't hear their whispers about the diva they had to dress. Quinn didn't blame them. Rachel was a difficult person to work with no matter what it was. She had even started to get frustrated and bored after the fourth dress.

"This one please, Mr. Hummel,"

"Please," He pushed off a pillar. "Call me Kurt. Mercedes,"

The woman helped Rachel onto a small platform to pin the dress up to accommodate for Rachel's shorter than average height. There was almost two feet of material that needed to be taken in.

The door to the shop chimed as someone came in. Quinn craned her neck to see Tina running in with a drink holder of lattes. Quinn took hers from the holder. She drank it down, relishing the coffee bean taste and the fire it took down her throat. She could drink the stuff all day if she really wanted to.

"Thanks, Tina," She smiled and moved the magazines out of the chair next to her.

Kurt glared over at them eyeing the cups. "You get even an atom of coffee on any of the pieces and you'll be in so much debt you'll make the recession look like a five dollar overdraft."

"Noted," Quinn said.

Tina slurped down some of her drink. Her own eyes narrowed as she took in Rachel's dress. "Is that-"

"It's the first one."

"Hey now," Rachel snapped her neck over to them, her hands on her hips where Mercedes instructed her to put them. "Can you blame me for wanting to see more than a couple of options? They were all rather exquisite and I wanted to make sure I found the one that would be perfect in every way. Is it honestly my fault if the first dress I tried on was the best pick?"

"Yes," Quinn crossed one leg over the other. "Because while you tried on ten other pointless dresses, I could've gone to make sure the decorators had the right shade of pink you're so picky about having. Not to mention find a place for the ridiculously, extravagant reception you're trying to throw."

"And that is why I put you in charge."

"I'm flattered," Quinn deadpanned.

Tina leaned over to her. "What _is _she planning?"

"It's going to be magnificent, Tina, you just wait." Rachel started before Quinn could start on explaining.

Rachel talked and Quinn's mind opened to picture everything. Rachel wanted her reception, and even her wedding before Quinn talked her out of it, to be done just as dramatic as a stage production.

"As dramatic as you would be more accurate." Quinn had quipped. She got a good pinch in the arm for the remark.

It would be extravagant and ridiculous with tons of baby pink and silver balloons scattered all over the place and big, bright stage lights that lit up the dance floor. Alongside with having a DJ, somehow she wanted to have a live band play during the dinner and a slideshow of snap shots of her and Jesse for some entertainment.

It didn't sound so bad, but getting the table settings and centerpieces as well as the food for both vegans and regular people (as Quinn called ones who ate anything like herself) it was a pain in the ass. And, of course, Quinn was left to do a lot of the work.

"Wow," Tina's jaw dropped.

Rachel grinned and nodded over her shoulder. Quinn rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it,"

"That means you'll have to find a place soon so we can see if everything will fit."

"Already on it," Quinn smacked her lips. "One of Brittany's friends has a connection. I'm supposed to meet her tonight."

"That's right!" Tina sat up straighter. "Brittany's living with you now." Quinn nodded and Rachel nodded even more. "I didn't know you two were getting so close."

"Tina, you have _no _idea," Rachel said. Mercedes instructed her to hold her arms out to her sides.

"Really?" Tina's eyes lit up.

"No, no, Tina, it's not like that." Quinn tried to save herself, but Rachel's comments and noises weren't helping her case. "She was living by herself, and since Rachel is moving in with Jesse, we decided to just let her move in."

"She was practically living with us already." Rachel informed. "It's been almost two month and she's still there. I think she's only stayed at her own place there or four times since the first night. Not that I mind, it's fine, and Quinn has someone to keep her company."

"Britt too," Tina sighed sadly. She sat back in her chair, throwing one leg over the other. "I felt terrible for leaving her in that apartment."

"She was respecting you and Mike's privacy." Quinn assured her.

"True, but I wouldn't have minded her still staying. I think it's good that she's staying with you, though."

"Yeah, it's good,"

Rachel snorted. "I'm sure it is,"

"Okay!" Mercedes' voice cut through before Quinn could say anything. "You can get out of the dress now and don't lose any of the pins."

Offering a hand, she helped Rachel down off the small platform. She looked at herself in a mirror once more before disappearing into a changing room. Quinn was glad her presence was gone and they were near leaving. She didn't think she could take another moment cramped up in the store.

"How is she?" Tina asked, suddenly.

Quinn held up her eyebrow for a moment before the subject of her question sank in. "She's good. I really am glad she's staying. With Rachel going and all…" Tina nodded in understanding. "Thanks for helping us with the dress." She said to change the subject.

"Don't mention it,"

After some time, Rachel came back in her regular clothes and they went up to the front counter. Quinn's eyes fell out of her head when she saw the price of the dress along with the tailoring expenses light up on the screen. Rachel whipped out Jesse's credit card and let it swipe.

Of course price wouldn't matter much to Rachel when Jesse would give her about everything she wanted. Still, the discount that they got from Tina swaying the two designers into doing a photo shoot of Rachel for their magazine was worth it.

They waved to Tina once they hit the streets. Quinn led Rachel to her car around the back and climbed inside.

"I know that I'm not the only one who notices the way Brittany is with you." Rachel started as soon as they hit the highway. "Or maybe you just haven't dated anyone or been around people in so long that you've forgotten how it is to be flirted with. I mean, honestly Quinn, it's so blatantly obvious."

"I don't care," Quinn groaned.

"Lies,"

"I don't want to care?" She tried.

"Brittany's good to you, she really is." Quinn gave a frustrated sigh as she eased them off the highway onto their exit. "It's sweet to watch."

Quinn snorted. Sweet to watch? As if Rachel had been around them long enough since her engagement to gather anything from the how the two women were from each other.

"Even if she's good to me doesn't mean she's good _for_ me."

"I think she is and my opinion should count a lot because I know you better than you know yourself."

"Because you trying to hook me up with Sam showed just how much you really knew me."

Rachel brushed hand over her forehead, knocking hair from her face. Her lips pursed. "I admit, that was a sorry attempt and if you didn't notice I gave up on that soon after the second night we all went out."

"How kind of you," Quinn deadpanned.

"Your sarcasm is only a confirmation that you do care about Brittany possibly liking you."

"Even if, Rach, I told you I'm not ready."

"Get over yourself, Quinn, and stop fighting it." Rachel came back firmly. Quinn gaped at her as they pulled up to their apartment. "She's gotten though to you, I know she has, or you wouldn't let her be around you like that."

"So maybe she has," She gave in a little. "But do you think I need to be in a relationship with someone or have another friend to replace the one who's leaving me?"

"I think," Rachel's jaw flexed. "That you need to learn how to trust and let someone show you what love really is."

"And Brittany's the one to do that?" Rachel shrugged her shoulders and got out of the car. "Exactly," She muttered walking up the stairs behind Rachel.

They got to the top when Rachel spun around on her. "Do you think I don't know how much it hurts you that I'm leaving? Do you know how it hurt me knowing I'd be leaving you alone?"

She turned away from Quinn's bewildered expression to open the door. "Quinn, I'm your best friend," Rachel continued, "and we went though a lot - you went through a lot - together and I know how much you love me, and I love you so much, but what I can give you is not enough."

"I know you can't,"

"When I see you with Brittany, I notice how happy she makes you. I haven't seen you that happy or at ease with anyone but me in a long time, and I don't want you to stay at arms length from that."

"Rachel, I just need time, okay?" Quinn pressed her fingers into her temples. She'd been having this very internal battle with herself for weeks. "Just time."

"And you have it," Rachel unlocked the door. "Just don't waste it, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rachel was right, she knew Rachel was right, and she wanted to just let it happen. "This is hard for me, Rachel. I know I shouldn't let _him _mess up everything but that took everything from me. Everything came crashing down after the baby and I still don't forgive myself for it happening."

Rachel shook her head. "You need to,"

"I know, but every time I start to give in all I can hear are my parents screaming at me and…" She swallowed. "That night,"

Rachel bit her lip, frowning. "He was drunk, Quinn. Drunk and out of his mind. You can't beat yourself up for not listening to him. You were the mother and you could do whatever you wanted."

"I know," She fell into Rachel, drawing her into a hug. She didn't want to think of that at night. Not now.

"Brittany's different," Quinn pulled away from Rachel and offered a soft smile.

She wanted to allow herself to take on how Brittany felt about her. Even if she didn't come out and say it, Quinn could feel it in the way she touched her and the way she'd brush her lips on her forehead or cheek or temple. She felt it when Brittany held onto her through the night after she found out about Rachel's engagement.

"Thanks, Rach," Quinn pulled back. She heard the sounds of the shower running in the background.

"Don't hurt yourself, okay?" Rachel reached up to clear away her tears. "I won't be here to force you in front of a canvas and a brush in your hand."

"I guess I'll have to learn how to take care of myself." Rachel glanced over at the shower door but didn't say anything else.

Quinn helped Rachel load the rest of her boxes into her car. They shared another long hug. Rachel drew back, touching her cheek.

"See you at the theatre?" Rachel asked, smiling.

"See you at the theatre."

-/-/-/-

Quinn watched buildings go by as Brittany drove. The city she had grown to love flew by all familiar and beautiful in the light of the dusk. The skyscrapers started to fizzle out and were replaced by the old rugged buildings on the edge of the city. Quinn had only gone so far once or twice. She didn't trust the area enough to press her luck painting on the streets.

Taking a right, Brittany cruised slowly down the street before swinging into a parking space right off the road. When the car shut off, Quinn peered up through the windshield to read the building they had pulled up to.

_Cheerios: Music Café_

She slid out of the passenger side, feet hitting loose gravel. Her eyes looked up and down the street. Other small shops and bars and stores lined either side, _Cheerios _being the better looking of them all. A group of teenagers sat outside a nickel and dime store stringing pop and eating from a box of pizza. Quinn grinned.

"Quinn,"

She turned facing Brittany who had already made it to the door. She quickly hopped onto the curb and waltz through the door Brittany was holding open for her.

The smell of cigarettes and garlic seasoned French fries hit her nose hard. Her eyes looked all around the place taking it in.

The interior opened up wide to the left of the bar. Booths lined both sides and a few were clustered alongside them. A platform was raised against the far wall for bands to play and the middle of the floor was left clear to serve as a place to watch the performances up close or to dance.

Around the right corner of the cafe was a billiards room and a couple of comfy looking couches and an antique looking jukebox. All on the walls were posters and paintings of musicians and bands and other abstract pieces that reminded Quinn of the things she painted herself. She wondered if they accepted art there…

Brittany threw her leg over a barstool and patted the one beside her for Quinn to sit. She slowly approached and sat down. She studied the back wall behind the counter, taking note that all the bottles were glass soda bottles and only one sort of liquor. It was like an old, fifties diner with a modern swing and a little musical pizzazz to spice it up.

"B," Someone called from dining area.

Quinn leaned back to see a slender, Latina coming up towards them wiping her hands on a towel. She blinked taking her all in. Short, but not as short as Rachel, with skin a shade darker than caramel and dark brown hair. Her eyes found Quinn's and her perky lips pursed and her eyes narrowed a fraction like she knew exactly who Quinn was.

Her deep brown eyes stayed on Quinn as she closed the gap between her and Brittany. They dropped away from her when she finally made it to the blonde and curled her arm around her. Her lips pressed into Brittany's cheek, the kiss lingering longer than necessary. She saw Brittany's ears go slightly red.

"Hey, San," She kissed her temple. Only then did Santana draw her arm away, her hand dipping far down on Brittany's back.

She pulled away and walked around the counter. "What're you doing here?" She asked, taking the towel she had been wiping her hands on to sweep across the counter top. Quinn moved her arm so she could get every inch of the wood.

"I want you to meet Quinn," Brittany said brightly.

Quinn weighed whether or not to extend a hand. The wrinkle in Santana's nose told her she didn't have to. "Hi," She said smiling. "It's nice meeting you…"

"Santana," She answered though Quinn already knew what it was. She turned away from Quinn to her friend. "You haven't been over in a while. I thought you forgot about me."

"I could never forget about you, S," She said sincerely. "The show keeps me busy." Santana scoffed but Brittany didn't seem to notice. That, or she ignored it. "Are you coming to see me in it?"

"I promised I would,"

"And I'm still holding you to it."

Reaching across the counter, Santana ran her fingers from Brittany's forehead, down the side of her face and under her chin tilting it back. "I'll come for you."

Brittany took her hand away from her face and touched them to her lips but didn't exactly kiss them. Quinn saw one of Santana's eyes twitch.

"So, what else did you want?" Santana drew her arm back, occupying her hands with things behind the counter.

"A basket of fries," She turned to Quinn. "And Sue's number."

Santana threw her head back to shout the order to the cooks. She brought her head back down, eyebrow cocked high. "Why do you want Sylvester's number?"

"Quinn's friend is getting married and she wants to know if Sue could let her borrow her ballroom for the reception."

Santana shrugged. "She's been getting booked easy every month." She told them pointing at the different bottles behind her. Quinn nodded at a soda she wanted. "When's the wedding?"

"December,"

"Bad month," She sat the two bottles of cola on the bar. "They get a lot of banquets and Christmas parties in December."

"That's why I'd like to call now," Quinn came in. Santana's eyes looked at her almost shocked like she hadn't noticed another person there. She kept herself from rolling her eyes. "If we could maybe book it now, we won't have to worry about our reservation not getting in."

"Whatever," Taking out a napkin, Santana clicked her pen and jotted down a number, passing it to Brittany who gave it to Quinn.

She folded it and put it in her pocket. "Thanks,"

"Don't take long to call her." Santana warned just as a large basket of steaming French fries slid on the metal slab at the kitchen window. She turned to get it and dropped it in front of Quinn and Brittany.

"You're not the only ones who thinks calling early will guarantee you a spot."

"I'll make sure to call her soon,"

Santana gave her a meaningless smile and went back to talking to Brittany. Quinn took up a fry and blew on it before taking a bite. Her mouth watered and her taste buds danced around happily on her tongue. She ate another and another, not even minding to dip them in the glop of ketchup Brittany had requested in a small bowl.

Leaning against the counter, Quinn listened to what the girls were talking about. They were on about times at the club and when one of Santana's neighbors banged and banged on her wall to turn her music down before coming over and threatened to call the cops. Both girls had been too drunk to remember if the cops had shown up or not.

A girl and a guy coming through the door carrying a guitar and a keyboard pulled her attention away. She watched them set up on the platform at the far end of the café and some of the other employees hurried over to help them set up. Santana included.

"It really is a music café," Quinn said digging into the second basket of fries. They were just so damn good!

Brittany turned to face her. "They have this every night. You've never been here?"

She shook her head. "I don't come to this part of the city a lot."

Brittany grinned, jerking her head in the direction of the billiards room. "I stayed here for a while when I couldn't afford the apartment."

Quinn choked on her soda. "Really?"

Brittany dabbed a napkin on her face to dust off the salt and drops of sticky cola. "It was only for a month. San let me work here until I had enough. That's when Mike gave the studio over to me, so I was okay after that."

"Why not stay with your family?"

"They moved back to Amersfoort," She bit into a fry. "That's where we're originally from. I couldn't go with them because of the tour."

Quinn's eyes widened. "And you decided to stay here?" She asked almost appalled that she wouldn't leave the States.

She nodded. "I like it here,"

Quinn worried her lip between her teeth. "I like you being here."

Brittany stroked the side of her face, leaning in to kiss the curve of her cheekbone. "You're sweet," She breathed, taking Quinn's hand.

She tugged on it and led her closer to the stage. They dropped into a vacant table in the center and Brittany brought her chair around to sit beside her.

The band on stage started to play, their voices like hot liquid mixing with the melodic tunes of their music. Lyrics of love and life floated on the air, filling Quinn with memories of Puck's attempts to serenade her. Brittany drew closer to her, throwing her arm around the back of Quinn's chair. She rested her head on Brittany's shoulder and felt hers weigh down on hers.

Someone lit a cigarette across from them and the smoke wafted through out, making vision hazy and the room hot. Quinn's breathing slowed while her heart pattered, her shoulder tingling where Brittany's thumb was stroking at her exposed skin.

Her eyes grew heavy and she let them shut knowing Brittany's arm would be able to hold her up. A fuzzy feeling took over Quinn's stomach just as Brittany pulled her closer still.

It was a feeling Quinn knew well. A feeling she hadn't allowed herself to feel in, well, years and it scared her more than anything. So each time she woke up in the middle of the night, cuddled up close to Brittany, she swallowed those feelings and put them to the back of her mind. Only thing was it was becoming quite difficult to keep them on the back burner because the pot was about to boil over.

It took a moment too long for Quinn to register that Brittany was looking at her. She craned her neck back to look into her grinning face. That face. She loved to see it in the mornings. It started her day on a happier note.

"Are you ready to go home?" Brittany asked, chewing on the skin behind her lip.

Quinn shook her head, her eyes drawn to the pretty pink lips in front of her. They were lips that she had felt on her cheeks, her forehead, her temple and her palm many times. They put her at ease and greeted her after long days.

Brittany touched her lips to the tip of Quinn's nose. The fuzzy feeling grew into something stronger. More static and buzzing like an electric currant.

The smoke around them was pressing. It forced Quinn's forehead to rest against the dancer's. She could see the blue in her eyes swimming and her pupils large and dark. Rachel's words spouted off in Quinn's head.

_Stop fighting it. _

Even if Quinn was, she was losing. She was losing and she wasn't too sure if she wanted to throw in the towel and forfeit or let the battle continue until she was completely beat.

"You're beautiful," Brittany murmured and Quinn's breath hitched in her throat.

She wasn't even aware that the music playing had ended and the habitants of the cafe were applauding and starting to leave. She was stuck in a trance of Brittany's fluttering eyelashes and her wide smile at the blush Quinn knew was on her cheeks.

Soft lips brushed against hers just barely touching before pulling back. Brittany stood up and offered her hand to Quinn. She took it and allowed Brittany to lead them through the cafe, waving at Santana before piling into the car.

The lights to _Cheerios '_Open' signflickered off just as they fell into the car.

Quinn brought her fingers up to touch her lips. Brittany hadn't exactly kissed her, but it was the closes the girl's lips had been to hers. It was startling and awakening to what she was truly keeping deep in her gut.

They pulled up to the apartment, and hurried inside not yet ready to go to sleep. So they changed and settled onto the couch as they did many times.

The TV played a show, but Quinn wasn't paying any attention to it. She was laying the length of Brittany's body, cradled in her arms on the couch. Her ears pressed against her chest hearing the beat of her heart and feeling it pound against the side of her face. It was warm and soothing along with her fingers tracing a path on her bare back that showed from her tank top.

Her nails grazed over the hard bone of her shoulder blade and Quinn shivered as the ticklish sensation set off her nerves. She bit back a laugh to not break Brittany's subconscious movements.

Her pattern on her back became definite after while and Quinn focused on the place she was smoothing out that cut across her left shoulder diagonally down past her spine.

Quinn shifted lightly to turn her head to look up at Brittany. Blue eyes blinked from her fingers to look at Quinn. She could see the question in her without having to hear it. Brittany hadn't brought it up since she shut her down the previous month in the theatre.

She swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat. "I got it from Puck," Her voice shook when she said his name. "He didn't mean to, but…"

Her finger pressed in harder along the scar. Though it didn't hurt, Quinn winced remembering the feeling of how it got there. Brittany eased up on the pressure turning her touch feather light.

"How did it happen?"

-/-/-/-

Quinn glanced up at the clock on the wall. The minute hand ticked an hour after the final bell had sounded. She sighed and turned back to the test on the desk in front of her. At the front of the classroom, she could see her History teacher behind his desk occasionally glancing impatiently at her and his computer screen. She didn't want to be there anymore than he did.

The tip of Quinn's pencil snapped. She stared down at the essay she had been writing and quickly added a few closing words, dotted her 'I' and put a period at the end. She couldn't take being there anymore and the impatience of her teacher was making her feel terrible and the uneasy feeling in her stomach was starting to make presence again.

Getting up, she placed her test on the teacher's desk then doubled back to grab her bag. She was glad for no one in the classroom. They would always stare at her; afraid the strain of putting her bag on her shoulder would somehow send her into premature labor five months too early.

The empty hall was a relief. Quinn walked down it slowly enjoying the lack of nose and bustle and eyes. She held onto her stomach, something that she had started on doing, as she approached the staircase. She got three steps down when she turned back around to go to the staircase at the other end of the hall.

"Q," Puck spun around and ran back up after her. "Quinn, stop,"

She hadn't intended to stop but she did. She obeyed him. She listened to him just like she had listened to his promise at the party.

"What do you want?" She sighed turning to face him. He was still in his football practice gear like he had snuck off the field to find her. The smell of sweat and grass made her sick.

"You okay?" The frustration on his face faded for a moment as he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," She pushed past him to proceed down the stairs. "I just want to go home."

"You mean my place?" He came back.

Quinn stopped at the last step, her head hanging. "I didn't want anyone to find out where I was living. You can tell everyone the truth you if you want."

"Just like I can tell everyone the truth about the baby being ours."

"Puck…" Quinn turned around again to see him standing at the top of the flight.

"Don't 'Puck' me, Fabray," He stepped down once. "You might have to walk around with the evidence growing under your shirt but do you know how shit it feels to have everyone patting Finn on the back and making jokes with him like he's the one the kid belongs to?"

"You promised me he wouldn't find out."

"Yeah," He took another step down. "When I didn't think you'd be pregnant with _my _daughter."

"Would you drop it, please? I'm not going to say anything and neither are you. You know why?" She took a step up putting herself directly in front of him. "Because then you'd lose your best friend because you couldn't be content with him having the girl you wanted. So you got her drunk and convinced her to have sex with you."

"You wanted to have sex with me!" He roared, forcing her backwards with his words. "I didn't convince you to do shit."

"Would Finn really believe that?"

"He believed his girlfriend wasn't a slut, didn't he?"

"And he believed he could trust his best friend."

"You're not innocent yourself,"

Quinn's jaw flexed against the bile that was trying to come up her throat. Her chest heaved and her heart rammed into her chest so hard it hurt. Puck took another step forward so she had to step down. His eyes blazed with a fury she had never seen directed to anyone. It hurt, it broke her heart, it brought all the hateful things her parents said, brought up how conniving and selfish she was being about the situation.

She sucked in a breath then swallowed everything down. "You're not telling Finn anything." She hissed.

She turned on her heels to leave when Puck grabbed her by the wrist. He yanked her back so that she was whirled around and slammed into his front. She struggled against him, trying to wrench herself from his hold.

"Let me go!" She screamed and her voice carried as her foot lost its footing on the last step.

Air whooshed out of her lungs, ending the shrill note as her back hit the railing. White, hot pain shot up her back as it grazed down against the jagged edge of the railing. She hit the ground hard, the force keeping her from being able to draw in a breath

Her eyes widened as she tried to gasp in air. Puck fell down over her, his voice only a buzzed murmur in her ears. Her hands flew up in front of her as she tried to push him away, push him off her, keep him from touching her again.

Quinn grunted out an airless sob as her vision started to blur.

-/-/-/-

"I blacked out because I couldn't breath." Quinn finished. Brittany's hand was now flat against her back and still. "My history teacher heard the screaming and I was taken to the hospital."

"Did you ever tell Finn?"

She nodded her head feeling the tears that had escaped her eyes be soaked into the fabric of Brittany's shirt. "He wanted to know why Puck had come after me, so I told him the truth. He never talked to me again after that."

"And Puck?"

Her muscle constricted at hearing the name fall off Brittany's tongue. "The only time I let him near me again was when I had the baby. After that, I stayed away."

"And you stayed away from anyone else."

"Basically," The straight line of Brittany's mouth fell into a frown.

Quinn turned on her back and Brittany moved to accommodate for their new position. "Hey," She touched the corner of Brittany's lip. "What is it?"

"I brought all of this back up." She said, sadly.

"Yes, but it's good that you did." Quinn said honestly and she saw the corners of Brittany's mouth start to move from the frown. "I haven't talked about it with anyone but Rachel but she was there when a lot of it happened."

Brittany smiled softly. "You didn't stay away from me."

"No," She combed through Brittany's hair. She saw her shiver under her touch. "Because you wouldn't let me."

Laughing, Brittany leaned down. Quinn tensed as her face hovered over hers, her bright, blonde hair like a veil around their faces. "And you can't make me," Her lips barely touched Quinn's as she spoke.

_Stop fighting it. _

Quinn sat up enough for their lips to meet before pressing back down into the couch. She stroked her fingers through the curtain of hair around her, watching as a long smile spread on Brittany's lips and her eyes stayed closed, savoring the tiny moment.

"I don't want you to stay away."

_Til Next Chapter_


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII  
**

The theatre was buzzing when Quinn walked in. Jesse's voice was coming through the speakers giving orders. A band of costumers came tromping down the aisles with costumes that had been sent out for dry cleaning to look their best for the final performance. Some of the tech zigzagged through the seats vacuuming and sweeping the carpet, and the voices of actors checking microphones joined Jesse's voice in the air.

The house lights turned off for a moment then blinked back on. Quinn felt her insides buzz with nervous anticipation for the closing night. It was always a bittersweet moment, the last performance, but it was just as nerve-racking and exciting as the opening. Nothing could compare to that moment when the grand drapes opened the first night and the closed on the final. It was exhilarating and sad all in the same.

A hand pressed to the middle of her back drawing Quinn back to earth. "Are you ready?" Brittany asked, grinning.

"Yes and no," She answered truthfully as they walked up the steps to the stage. "I'm ready for it to start but I don't want the show to end. It's been the best one I've done so far."

"Mine too,"

Quinn laughed. "This is your first," They slipped through the wings to her post just off stage right.

"But not my last,"

"Dancers, I need you in the dance studio!" Mike called from center stage.

"See you at places." Quinn bumped into her gently.

Brittany leaned down to press a chaste kiss on Quinn's temple before leaving. She watched her stride off towards Mike. She tapped the tip of his nose with a finger and continued skipping off in the direction of the studio the dancers warmed up in.

Doing one sweeping look at her station, Quinn turned away from it and walked through the backstage doors. Laughs and conversations flooded out of dressing rooms and booming music from the men's dressing room was turned up three notches too loud. She ignored it knowing it was her duty to tell them not to get too rowdy, but she would let the rules slide a bit for the night.

She passed the chorus members dressing rooms and the empty dancer rooms to find where the leads changed. There were other leads besides Rachel and Thoms, but they were the two that had their own separate dressing rooms from the bigger one that the leads shared.

Quinn knocked on Rachel's door.

"Come in," Quinn heard her call.

"Rachel!" Quinn hurried to close the door behind her.

Her old roommate turned her head to look under the arm that held up curling iron in her hair. She followed Quinn's eyes down to her scantily clad body, sporting only a bra and underwear and long socks that were only supposed to reach her knees but went to the middle of her thighs.

"What?" Rachel shrugged pulling the curler from her hair. A deep, brown curl bounced against her naked shoulder. "If it were anyone else, I would've had them wait, but I knew it was you."

"Sixth sense?"

"Yes, that, and," She squinted her eyes and drew in her face as she sprayed hairspray on the few curls she had finished. "You have a very distinct knock." She tapped her ears. "Perfect pitch, remember?"

"Right," Quinn stepped to stand behind her.

She looked up in the tall mirrors in front of them with hot, bright round bulbs around the edges. How Rachel could stand the blazing heat from the bulbs and not the summer, Quinn would never understand.

"Ouch!" Rachel sucked her finger.

"Let me help you," Quinn took the curling iron from her.

"Don't you have things to do like sweep the stage, make sure all cues are in order, sets are spiked and other tedious and boring work that I know isn't as fun as spending quality time with your best friend you haven't seen in days, but-"

"Not having to listen to you ramble made those few days quality."

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. Quinn laughed, looking at both of them in the mirror once again. Another curl fell from the curler and Quinn couldn't help but see their sixteen-year-old selves staring back at them. Only, it was Quinn in Rachel's position then when she was just too broken and down to even lift a hand to do her own hair.

Rachel's lip smoothed out and her arms dropped so her hands rested in her lap. "It's weird not waking up and having to make you coffee."

"You drank it too," Quinn tugged Rachel's hair. She got a nice elbow in the hip for it. "It's weird waking up and having to fix my own coffee."

"You're actually up before noon now?"

Quinn laughed. "Lunch time coffee is just as good as breakfast coffee." Rachel snatched up the can of hairspray and doused her hair in the sticky mist.

Quinn stepped far back, hand batting at the air. She smacked her lips, the nasty flavor of the spray on her tongue. Rachel only smirked and titled her head as she fluffed up one side of her curls with a hand.

They stayed quiet the rest of the time. Quinn helped Rachel into her costume and even wiggled her shoes onto her feet while she started on her make up. Her watch gave a beep indicating she needed to check on the activity on the stage, but she didn't want to leave just yet.

Rachel paused in applying base to her face. Her deep brown eyes ventured up to catch Quinn leaning against the back wall of her dressing room just watching. Rachel sat down her sponge and turned in her chair to look at her former roommate.

"I miss you, Quinn." She frowned.

Quinn pulled her eyes from a far off spot to look at Rachel. "I miss you a lot, Rach."

"Oh, please it's not like I died or anything." She joked but neither of their smiles reached the corners of their eyes. "Come here,"

Quinn strode across the room and fell into Rachel's awaiting arms. Rachel crushed her against her body and Quinn fisted her dress to hold her closer.

She could feel the meaning in the hug. A sadness of going their separate ways but also a seal for all the years they had spent together. It was congratulation for putting all of their talents and efforts into yet another show they were doing together, with this one being the biggest and the best. It was praise for going as far as they had over the years and not completely giving up even though life had thrown them many, life threatening curveballs.

It was a hug of love, warmth, memories, renewal and a promise that no matter where their paths took them, they would never fully be apart because in both of their hearts, there was a piece of the other lodge deep inside.

Rachel sniffled and Quinn's phone vibrated breaking them a part. She wiped her fingers over her cheek, pulling out her phone to see Jesse's number flashing on the screen. She hit ignore and would deal with his irritation at being dismissed when she pulled on her headset.

"I should go,"

"Yes, you should stage manager."

Quinn thumbed away one of Rachel's tears, leaning down to kiss her hairline. "Break both legs tonight."

"Don't drop the drape early."

"Never,"

-/-/-/-

Quinn was on her feet while Rachel sang her solo before intermission. She was on her feet and her eyes were glued to Brittany where they had been every time the girl came onto the stage. She couldn't miss her anymore. She stuck out beautifully from the dancers. Each of her solos were on point and her moves were breathtaking and executed the most precise Quinn had seen them the entire run.

She was giving it her all and so was Rachel. Quinn could hear it in her voice as she bellowed out the last note. It gave her chills and made her skin tingle. Matching it with Brittany's ballet flow set her heart into frenzy, her stomach into delicious knots and her knees quaking.

Reaching back, Quinn grabbed onto her stool and sank back down to the edge. The call for the curtain was on her tongue but she didn't think it needed to close just yet. Not when Brittany hit her pose and the audience was clapping with the most exuberance Quinn had ever heard.

She could see the tears in the other dancer's eyes and the tears on Rachel's face and it wasn't even the end yet.

She heard Jesse tell her to hold the curtain for a moment so the still picture on the stage could be soaked up some more. Quinn flicked her attention down to Brittany. Blue eyes fluttered open and found her in the wings.

Brittany didn't wink, nor did she smile. She simply looked at Quinn, warm tears falling out of her eyes as she held onto the passion of the dance she had just done. It was a beautiful sight, breathtaking and beautiful.

Her eyes closed and the curtain came down.

One more act to go.

Rachel was the first one in her arms, knocking the wind out of her. She still had tears on her face and coming from her eyes.

"I was so excited I could hardly breath up there." She said in a flurry with other things that were lost on Quinn when she saw Brittany standing just a couple feet behind her.

Rachel pulled away and gasped when she saw Brittany. "You were excellent tonight. You had _me _crying, and that applause," Quinn saw Brittany's cheek twitch against a smile. "Usually I would say that it was all for me, but there is not a single doubt that it was all for you, Brittany. Amazing."

"Thank you, Rachel." Her cheeks went rosy.

Rachel touched the blonde's shoulder. Quinn wondered if Brittany knew how rare it was for Rachel to take herself out of the spotlight for a moment to let someone else be engulfed by it. For Rachel to give that sort of compliment, Quinn knew, was a real and genuine complement.

"I'm going to go get changed for act two."

As Rachel marched off, Brittany stepped forward. "Hi," She greeted. The make up around her eyes was smudged from where she had wiped away her tears.

"Hey," Quinn bit her lip. "You really were amazing. I mean, you always are, but the audience was…just…wow." She finished for lack of better words.

A soft chuckle came from the back of Brittany's throat. "Wow?" She said, touching her fingers to Quinn's cheek. She nodded.

She traced down the curve of her bone and around and under her chin. Brittany leaned forward so close Quinn could smell the natural cinnamon and peppermint perfume of her skin mixed in with make up and sweat.

"But I wasn't dancing for the audience." Her fingers left from beneath her chin to stroke down the side of her neck. Quinn shivered. "What did the stage manger think?"

"She…" Quinn struggled for air as Brittany continued to graze feather touches over her skin. Everywhere she touched started to burn like dry ice. "She thought it was amazing, too."

"Just amazing?"

"There aren't many words to describe just how amazing you were."

Brittany leaned back to look into Quinn's eyes. "I have the same problem trying to think of words when I watch you paint."

"My talent isn't worthy of comparing to what you do."

She walked around to stand behind Quinn, her hands resting on her taught shoulders and pressed in. "Maybe," Brittany's hot breath blew into her ear.

Quinn's just loosened muscles tightened back up and her ears glowed deep red. Brittany snickered and her lips brushed Quinn's cartridge as she said, "But what I do can't compare to the person you are."

"Quinn!" Rachel called. Quinn straightened her posture and Brittany stood as Rachel finished walking across the stage behind the closed curtain. "Please tell me you're coming to the cast party tonight."

"What?" She took a moment to catch her breath and attempt to ease the swell of her heart out of her throat. "Why wouldn't I go?"

"Oh, I don't know. You might have," Rachel glanced at Brittany who was still digging her thin fingers into Quinn's shoulders. "Other plans,"

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "No, we're going,"

"'We're'?" Her eyebrows wiggled over her eyes. Quinn thanked Brittany's amazing hands on her, or she'd leap out and smack Rachel right then.

"Yes, _we're_ going. It's at jazz club downtown, right?"

"House of Jazz," Brittany said. "I know where it's at."

"You might want to go home and change before you come to the party."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I brought extra clothes just for that, Rachel. Why don't you go put some powder on your shiny nose?"

"Ouch. Reducing to insults to tell me to leave you alone is unnecessary when you could just ask me to give the two of you some privacy. Not that you're getting much privacy with how many people walk backstage and everything."

"Oh my God, Rachel, stop talking." Quinn laughed despite herself.

Rachel pulled her fingers from one side of her mouth to the other like she was zipping her mouth shut. With a wink, she pranced away. Quinn was glad she had left, because the red hue on her face from Brittany's simple kiss on her neck would've brought on a slew of jokes and teasing one liners that she was not ready to deal with.

-/-/-/-

Once the drape came down, Quinn rocketed from her stool and bounded up and down. The show was done. They were finished. Everyone hurried off the stage to get ready for curtain call. Rachel was the quickest and ran towards Quinn. Holding out her arms, Quinn expected Rachel to fall into them, but her face was grave as she clutched Quinn's shoulders.

"What's wrong?" She asked as the drape went back up and a group of chorus members ran out to take their bows to the roaring applause.

"Your parents," Rachel panted, still coming off her stage high. "Your parents are here. In the audience."

"What?" Quinn gave an exasperated laugh. She stared into Rachel's eyes trying to find a fragment that told her it was a joke, but it wasn't. "They're here? They came to the show? What are they doing here?"

"I don't know, I don't know," Rachel peered over her shoulder. It was almost she and Thoms turn to go out. "I saw them during the first act but I wasn't sure it was them, but I'm positive it's them now. They're here…and so is your sister."

"My…?"

"I have to go,"

Rachel pulled away from her to join hands with Thoms and run back to center stage to bow. Quinn's knees gave way and she fell back into her stool. The noise of people cheering in her headset was background buzz in her ears. Her parents were there? Her parents were there with her sister.

She ran her hands over her hair, pushing the headset off and onto her shoulders. Taking deep breaths, Quinn tried to calm herself down, calm the anxiety that had slithered up into her gut making her sick to her stomach and making her head woozy. It had been six and a half years. Six and a half years since she had spoken to the people that made it obvious they didn't want to see her again. So why were they at her show?

"Quinn?" Brittany's feet came into her line of sight. The taller girl crouched down so she could look up into Quinn's downcast face. "Quinn, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, eyes closing so she couldn't see Brittany. Behind her lids sprang the faces of her parents. She tried to see them as the loving faces that smiled at her on her first days of schools, waving and wishing her luck. The warm face of her mother kissing her goodnight, and the proud look in her dad's eyes when she had finally learned how to drive. None of those came. Only their contorted sneers of disgust and rage when she told them she was pregnant.

Her hands slipped over her ears as their voices started to roar again; such harsh words, such damnation and condemning words. She could feel her dad's hands on her, forcing her into her room and into her closet to pack her things. She could feel her mom's cold shoulder as she was pulled out the door past her and into the night. Her keys were thrown at her feet and the front door slammed in her face. They left her. They left her alone.

"Quinn," Rachel's voice cut into the riot going on in her mind.

She brought her head up to look into the face that had saved her from all of that. "What are they doing here? Who told them about the show?"

"I don't know, but you have to go talk to them."

"What?" Quinn all but yelled. She jumped off her stool to tower over Rachel. Brittany stood close by her, one of her hands resting on Quinn's shoulder.

Rachel shrugged, unaffected. "They came all the way here to see you." Quinn snorted. "I'm not saying you have to have a huge family reunion and have one, huge Jerry Springer episode right there. I'm saying that it would be right to go and say hi to them. Obviously they care about you enough to fly a plane down south from Lima."

"They've had six years to come and see me. Why would they pick now to start caring about me?"

"I don't know, Quinn, but do it. Please?" She pulled her arms over her chest, lip pouted like a sixteen-year-old girl. "Just say hi, ask how your sister's nursing is going, and then we can go to the cast party and forget it ever happened."

"A Fabray family reunion is never forgotten."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Brittany asked gentle.

Quinn glanced up at her then to the hand that had dipped off her shoulder and was smoothing out her back. She brought her eyes back up to Brittany's and shook her head.

"I have to go to them alone."

Rachel nodded. "I'll be at the far end of the lobby if you need me."

"When you hear the screaming, that's your cue to intervene."

Rachel smirked and hooked her arm around Quinn's to lead them through the tunnel that would take them to the lobby. On her other side, Brittany twined her fingers with hers. Quinn squeezed her hand tightly, drawing Brittany's strength into herself and Rachel's courage into her heart.

The lobby burned gold under the hazy, chandelier light. The long corridor was loud and echoed with voices. Audience members and costumed cast members wove together up and down the hall. Flashes from cameras blinked left and right and pens scratched autographs onto programs. Little kids were hoisted onto shoulders to be able to see everyone and families hugged their loved ones in congratulations.

Quinn's eyes scanned through the crowd in search for the blonde heads that belonged to her family. They passed by Mike shaking hands and Brittany gave her hand one more squeeze before pulling away to stand with him and other dancers. Quinn couldn't help but feel some of her power drain from the disconnection.

"There," Rachel hissed, her finger pointing for a moment.

Quinn quickly followed it to the trio of people looking out of place in their perfectly pressed clothes and stoic expressions.

They looked just as Quinn remembered. Her dad stood tall and broad with hard blue eyes and a thin mouth pulled tight. The lines in his face were a little deeper, but the still ran along like rivers through his skin. Beside him was her mother looking prim and proper in her dress. Her pursed lips were ruby red and her high arched eyebrows were up as she scanned for a familiar face.

Last was her sister. Her hair was no longer the bright blonde that matched the others, but had faded into a dirty blonde a few shades lighter than brown. Her light hazel eyes, lighter than Quinn's own, looked all around before dipping to her cell phone then quickly snapped back up finding Quinn immediately.

Her mouth went slack for a moment and her eyes grew wide when she took in her younger sister across the room. The shocked expression poked at Quinn's heart. Out of them all, Frankie Fabray was the one she hadn't seen in the longest.

"Remember," Rachel leaned over. "I'll be at the end of the lobby."

"Thanks," Quinn felt Rachel squeeze her arm and then she was gone.

Quinn stood still where Rachel left her. Her sister was still staring at her, her hand slowly coming up to her mouth to cover it as her lips mouthed 'oh my goodness'. She snapped away from Quinn to her parents and motioned towards their wayward daughter.

Two more pairs of eyes found her and Quinn felt her feet start to move like she was being reeled in like a fish on a hook. With each step, her heart gained speed. With each step, her breathing became more jagged. With each step every painful memory of what these people did to her flash through her head.

She took her last step and stopped.

-/-/-/-

It still hadn't sunk in. Not just yet. Quinn was still hoping for that kick, for that pinch of splash of water or tip over a cliff that would wake her up from the surreal life that she had dipped into. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to girls like her. Not perfect, near spotless lambs like Quinn Fabray.

She had said all her prayers before night time, attended every Sunday, Wednesday and Saturday at church, helped feed the homeless and those in poverty. She even went on that missions trip to the slums of California with her youth group once to help spread the gospel. Things like this didn't happen to people that devoted so much of their time trying to be Godlike.

But as Quinn stood in front of the bathroom mirror and curled her fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, pulling it up to see the small swell of her belly, she remembered how mean she had been. She remembered how she had treated people around her and manipulated to get what she wanted. She remembered Puck lowering himself down into her and how she pushed her screaming conscious to the back of her head and let it happen.

She remembered that no matter how many cross necklaces she wore or how many times she let her knees hit the carpet at night begging and pleading for it not to be true, she was not invincible. She was not given a free pass. She chose to do what she did, and the consequences she knew could've come out of it had indeed come to her.

Her fingers smoothed over the lump. Two months. It had been two months and she was thankful that she wasn't showing too much, but it was enough to make her cheerleading uniform no longer fit. When she asked for a bigger size from the coach, her lie was something stupid like slacking in her diets and stress of school making her eat.

The lie wouldn't work much longer. The polyester was staring to tug again and her parents were getting worried about how much stress school was actually causing her. Or so they said. Quinn knew her mother just didn't want her getting fat because it would cut her chances of getting a good husband. Quinn wanted to smack her for saying something as cruel and low as that.

Pressing her hand flat against the bump, she closed her eyes trying to imagine a child growing inside of her. She tried and tried every day to let it sink in and each time it became a little easier for her to grasp the concept that she was having a baby. Getting rid of it was out of the question. She would never do that. She had been dumb enough to let Puck sway her into having sex and she had been even dumber to have sex with Finn after she found out she was pregnant so he, her good boyfriend, would think it was his when she broke the news.

Quinn took a deep breath and dropped her shirt. It was time for that news to be given. It was time she told her parents so they would stop threatening to call the school and complain about heavy workloads and call her cheer coach about pushing her cheerleaders too hard.

Walking down the stairs, Quinn could hear the cooking channel playing in the living room accompanied by the clink of knitting needles and the ruffle of a newspaper page being turned. It was the typical Sunday evening: A lazy day of enjoying the Sabbath.

She drew in a shaky breath as she hit flat surface. Where her confidence was coming from, Quinn didn't know, but it started to falter the closer she drew to the living room. Her palms started to sweat and her nerves started to tingle. Her mouth was going dry and her tongue was heavy in her mouth.

She was about to turn around and go back but her mom saw her. "Quinnie?" Her hands never paused in her knitting. "Are you alright?"

Russell turned from his paper to eye her along with his wife. She knew it was plain on her face and in her demeanor of how unsettled she was. She felt the color drain from her face and her heart start pounding as it tried to shoot blood back into her face.

"What's wrong, hunny?" Russell asked.

She swallowed. "I have something-" She forced moisture into her mouth and swallowed again. "I have something I need to tell you."

Her father's brow creased as he sat down his paper and Judy looked worried as she paused in her knitting for a moment.

"Well, what is it?" Her asked. "You're not failing are you? Do we need to call the school?" She shook her head.

"Then what is it, sweetheart?" Her mom patted the place on the couch next to her but Quinn didn't move. "Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?"

"No, mom, no one hurt me. I'm…" Her voice trailed off. Warm tears started to run down her face. "Mom…dad…I'm…"

"You're what?"

"Pregnant," It was a shallow whisper as it came out of her mouth. "I'm pregnant,"

The world froze. It froze and all Quinn could see moving was the facial reactions of her parents. Russell's concerned face went to shock to angry to livid while the knitting needles fell out of Judy's hands and her face hit surprised and pained and disappointed.

Questions were thrown at her, demanding she tell who the father was, what she was thinking, when it happened and when she found out.

They hardly gave her time to explain everything because as Quinn was trying to speak, trying to reason with them that she had been drunk and not in her right mind, her dad's booming voice was telling her that he didn't know who the hell the girl in front of him was anymore and that he couldn't even look at her.

She begged her mom to calm him down, but she sat quietly on the couch, the information still trying to process in her mind.

Rough hands pushed her up the stairs and into her room and bags thrown out of the closet. Streams of condemning words struck her in the back like daggers and all she could do was cry and plead for her dad not to make her leave.

The keys hit the sidewalk and the front door slammed. She broke down. Broke down and fell to the ground weeping.

"You're no daughter of mine." His words cut through. "I thought we raised you right, Quinn. I thought you were better than that. How stupid could you be to even get drunk and then spread your legs for some half-ass boy to knock you up? You're disgrace to this family and all that we believe in."

She cried and cried and cried as she pushed herself off the ground and walked. She walked her way with heavy bags weighing her down until she showed up at Finn's.

But being at Finn's only lasted until the guilt forced her out and she refused a place at Puck's and she was put into a shelter where she cried as her knees hit the floor and prayed. Prayed for the pain of everything to be taken away. But words cut deep.

-/-/-/-

"Hi Daddy," She said the way she would always say it. Like he was the best man in the world.

His eyes tightened at the corners. "Quinn," His voice ripped through the air. Quinn's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't heard him speak in so long. He still had power and authority in his voice.

She shifted her weight waiting for him to say more, but nothing came. She turned to her mother who wore the same astonished expression as her sister. "Mom,"

"Quinnie," She stretched out her hand.

Quinn took it, the tips of her fingers sparking at the touch. Judy tightened her grasp like she would when Quinn would get a cold and was bed ridden for days. Her mom would come in, take her hand, and whisper a prayer. When she was done, she'd squeeze Quinn's hand and kiss her goodnight.

She quickly released it and turned to her sister. "Frankie,"

"I believe it's Frannie to you," A smile spread on her lips.

Quinn felt the air being knocked out of her when Frankie pulled her into a hug. She could feel both of their hearts beating wildly and the tension in each of their bodies. Quinn brought up her arms to pull her closer, trying to soak up what she hadn't gotten in years.

She remembered days of playing with easy bake ovens and dressing up Barbie's. Days of writing notes during church service making fun of Pastor Chris's weird mustache. Days of getting laughed at when she had to buy a training bra while her sister got cute, padded ones, and days and nights of holding each other because of the harsh words that their parents threw at them.

"You're so old," Frankie whispered still in the hug.

Quinn felt a small smile come to her face. "I'm not fourteen anymore."

They broke apart, sharing a faint smile. As soon as Frankie saw their parents, her grin dropped and she dropped her head. Quinn seethed. They weren't children anymore. Her sister was twenty-nine years old and her parents still had their claws buried in her back.

"What are you doing here?" She asked looking up at her parents. "How did you find out about the show?"

"Do you really think we wouldn't know what our daughter is up to?" Russell said, dryly.

"I didn't think you cared, is more like it."

"Quinn," Judy cut in. "Your sets were beautiful. Weren't they beautiful Russell?" He looked down the length of his nose at her and nodded stiffly.

"I didn't know you were into the arts and craft, Quinnie." Frankie tapped her shoulder.

"I wasn't but Rachel-"

"You mean the lead?"

Quinn nodded. "We're - we _were_ - roommates and when I lived with her during high school she got me into it."

There was an exchange of looks and awkward shifts. She saw her dad's jaw tighten and her mom busied herself with smoothing out a none-excitant wrinkle in her shirt. Frankie's cheek twitched and Quinn narrowed her eyes. She was a little hurt. Her sister knew about what happened. She knew what had happened and didn't make any contact with her. Did her parents have something to do with that too?

"Well, you certainly do have talent."

"I have Rachel to thank for that." She said just to make them uncomfortable. "How did you find me? I know I didn't leave my address with anyone but Rachel's dads and I know for a fact you wouldn't dare call them."

It was rude, Quinn knew, but the truth always hurt. It was no secret that her parents didn't like the Berry's. They didn't like the Berry's because they failed to pay their taxes or kept their grass uncut for too long. They didn't like the Berry's because they were devout atheist or obnoxiously knocked on the Fabray door during Halloween when they knew very well that the Fabray family didn't take part in such a satanic holiday.

No. The Berry's were none of those things that would always get under her parent's skin. The Berry's were simply two men, deeply in love with an amazing daughter who had a warm heart and a big dream that stood by her every step of the way and encouraged her to be who she was and be proud of who she was. That's why they didn't like the Berry's.

The fact that two, gay men had raised good daughter is what boiled Russell Fabray's blood and made Judy turn green when she'd see them at the supermarket. Gay or not, Quinn knew Hiram and Leroy were better parents than the ones that had made her.

"Quinn, that was unnecessary." Judy furrowed her brow.

Quinn bounced her attention up to her dad. "How did you find me?"

"If you must know," He cleared his throat. "Hiram Berry has been working at the office. It wasn't difficult to figure out that you and his daughter were in the same place."

"And the show? How'd you find out about the show?"

"That was me," Frankie said, sheepishly. Her light eyes were sad and apologetic. "I came across it by chance when I was following the _Wicked _tour to see if me and Liam could maybe catch it. I recognized Rachel's name and I was curious. When I saw your name under stage coordinator, I called daddy and told him."

"And you all decided to get on a plane and come down to see me?"

"And now that we know you are in fact alive," her father started, "we will be leaving."

"Russell,"

"No, Judy," He glared down at Quinn with eyes the same as the night he kicked her out. "It's apparent that Quinn doesn't appreciate us spending the money or the time to sit through some horrid play just so we could see her." A shadow was casted over his face as his voice dropped. "Just like she didn't appreciate all the time we invested in trying to raise her the right way."

"You hardly raised me at all," Quinn snapped. "Rachel's dads are the ones who really raised me. Not you or mom."

"Quinn…" Frankie reached out to her. She shank away.

"What? Did you think throwing your pregnant daughter out on the streets was some sort of 'growing kids God's way' parenting lesson?"

"Everything has consequences. You needed to learn that."

"Having you as a father for sixteen years was consequence enough."

The air around them was thick. Quinn could feel it pressing down on her, too heavy and too much to suck in. Her hands shook by her sides and her pulse beat harshly in her ears. The eyes that were glancing upon them and the ears that were tuned into the conversation didn't matter to Quinn.

She didn't care about the humiliation she was putting her parents through. Compared to what they did to her, the humiliation and pain and sorrow she had to go through, this was nothing. They could never know the weight of the effect of what they did to her.

"Hmm," Russell straightened out his stance.

His eyes swept the area around them before he took one step forward. Quinn didn't move when his front pressed into her side and his heavy hand fell on her shoulder. His head came down to level with Quinn. She could feel the hot breath from his nose scorching her neck but she didn't move. She couldn't move.

"I came here thinking I'd be able to see my daughter, my Quinn," Her teeth grounded together as she clenched them tighter. His voice was sickening in her ears. "But all I see is the filthy, worthless, Godless and disgrace of a girl I watched walk down the sidewalk with a bastard child under her shirt."

"Get your hands off me." The words dripped out of her mouth with a choked cry.

The grip on her shoulder tightened even more. She winced at the pressure of his fingers digging into her skin, bruising the flesh. "Having a daughter like you was my own consequence. I'll thank God every night for relieving me of it."

His hand lifted away but Quinn could still feel it on her. The horrified look in her mother's eyes was even more pressure being pressed into her. Russell took his wife by the shoulder and steered her away towards the exit.

Frankie came into Quinn's view. Quinn blinked up to her. "I'm sorry, Quinn."

She outstretched her arms to hug her again but Quinn stepped back. "No you're not."

"You didn't deserve what they did to you."

"You never did anything to help me."

"I know," Her head dropped. "I'm sorry. I should've and I'm sorry, but mom and dad they-"

"Just go, Frankie," She drew a deep breath through her nose to keep the waterworks from flowing out. "Please," Quinn hissed quietly. "Just go,"

Reaching out, she placed a hand on Quinn's cheek. The heat of her palm was as hot as the summer sun. It burned her, it burned her to the core painfully.

"I love you, Quinnie," Her hand dropped to her side. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Haven't I already had to?" She asked sarcastically. "Bye, Fran,"

"Bye Quinn."

_Til Next Chapter_

_Hush. You'll get slammed with lots of Quitt from here on out. Many thanks for all reviews and much else._


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII  
**

September air whirled through downtown bringing a soft, fall chill. The heat the sun left from high afternoon fought against the season change making a dry heat with the occasional breeze.

Quinn held a stack of boards under her arm as she walked down the street. Her bag full of spray paint cans, acrylics and brushes bounced against her back. The scuff of Brittany's feet on the pavement followed her at the tempo of the music that grew louder the closer they drew to her corner.

It was early evening close to the time Brittany had to head to the recital hall for practice for the recital her dance classes were putting on in a few weeks. Quinn told her she didn't have to come with her, but she insisted she drop her off and stick around until the last minute.

So Quinn let her.

Placing the boards on the ground. She glanced at Brittany seeing her check her phone for the time. Quinn was ready to tell her to go, but shut her mouth. Brittany's presence did help her even if she couldn't always admit it.

Ever since her parents came to the last show, things were off. Quinn felt the sword her parents had thrust into her chest long ago get twisted to the side and ripped her completely open. Everything hurt but she didn't want it to. She wanted to forget it.

She had painted for weeks.

Colors flew up everywhere getting on anything and everything around her. They splattered onto blank canvas in angry blots before Quinn mussed it with her paintbrush blending them together. There was nothing in the design, just raw emotion.

It was the same way when she dragged herself onto the streets of downtown. Fall chill was beginning to settle in, but Quinn could hardly feel it as she worked. She'd tie her jacket around her waist, crouch on the concrete, and go to work. Not once was Brittany not there.

She'd sit on Quinn's mattress behind her while she painted. After leaving the studio, she'd find Quinn on the corner, attempting to paint herself into oblivion. Brittany wouldn't let her, though.

She'd see Quinn start to lose herself and somehow, with a touch of the hand or a peck to the cheek, she'd be brought out of her trance. Brittany never asked her to explain what was wrong. She was patient. She allowed Quinn to deal with what she could before bringing it up.

Quinn didn't want it to be brought up. She had squashed all of that down, but being on the street as she was at the moment brought the night back.

Taking a spray can from her bag, Quinn started to shake it up and looked down at the blank board. She could feel the curious eyes around her. Some from the regular people always out, but many others from people that came out of hiding now that the heat became a little more bearable in the oncoming of fall.

It would be a long night, she knew. There was a lot more stirred inside of her that needed to be released.

"Will you come out with me after you finish with Rachel?" Brittany asked as she sat down crossed legged beside her.

"I don't really like clubs." She popped the top of the can and sprayed a little bit onto her forearm. She smiled at the burning cold.

"We can do anything you want."

"I don't know, Britt," she sighed. "If Rachel doesn't have me out all night doing her plans for her, I'll think about it."

She knew the evening would turn long. Rachel had called her up between her classes asking if she'd show her the ballroom again and go through guest lists and think of designs for invitations. Quinn knew it would end up her being the one to do all the work, but what were best friends for?

"Santana wants you to go." Quinn added before Brittany could protest. "You need some best friend time. You've done nothing but worry about me. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," another can was in her hand and she started to work. She didn't know what would come out of it yet, but her subconscious would figure that one for her.

She saw Brittany check her phone again. "You should go. I'll be okay out here."

She nodded and leaned over kissing Quinn on the cheek. Quinn's eyes closed for a moment as she felt a little bit of peace flow into her from those lips on her skin.

Brittany was up before Quinn opened her eyes and she turned up to see Brittany's worried look. She smiled. "I'll be okay. Go on,"

Brittany touched her cheek before splitting off towards the direction they had parked her car. Quinn watched her until she was lost in the crowd and too far for her eyes to reach.

The company was missed, but Quinn found herself making up for it by putting blue and yellow down. Brittany had been finding her way into a lot of Quinn's paintings.

In the sea of red and orange that were her parents, Brittany had been there putting a chill over the flaming colors with her calming blue. In the browns and yellows and pinks, blue snuck in, enveloping Quinn like the arms of a mother cradling her child.

Brittany was her every good feeling. Brittany was her escape, her freedom, her safe nest when she felt like the world was blowing apart around her. And still Quinn was keeping her at arms length.

The feelings that raged inside of her for Brittany were strong. Thy wanted to bubble over the top and she wanted to let herself be gathered up by the sweet and caring blonde that had come into her life at the perfect time and had started to unlock the locks on her chains. She had come to her at perfect time to catch some of Quinn's weights, but instead of merely holding them like Rachel had done, she had started to cast them away.

But she couldn't.

There was a barrier, a wall of glass keeping her away. She could see Brittany there on the other side with open arms and warm smiles but the bat in Quinn's hands wouldn't swing up and shatter the bulwark because even after all the time, she couldn't reopen her heart and let someone inside.

While Brittany was patiently standing at the doorstep, Quinn stood with her back against the door on the other side with a hand on the knob but not the strength to turn and let her walk in.

The crowd around her grew steadily bigger and Quinn was quick to finish three or four paintings before a very distinct voice yelled prices down at her.

Quinn looked up to see Rachel standing the shortest out of all of the onlookers. She waved her hand for Quinn to hurry up and she rolled her eyes.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the remaining five blank boards. She felt wrong to not finish them all, but Rachel was impatient and would probably leave her out in the city until the eerie, early times of the morning that held dangers Quinn never wanted to see.

She quickly finished the one she was on and sold it. She reluctantly declined any request and bribes for her to do more and stood up. She always hated to see the crowd leave her. They filled her with so much energy and excitement. Even though she wasn't drawing for them, having the heat huddled around her made her anxious and giddy.

Rachel stepped back as Quinn stepped towards her. Her nose was scrunched as she took her in.

"Must you always get so filthy when you do these things?" Rachel's eyes washed over her a few times. "What do you do? Use your body as your canvas?"

"I promise I won't get paint on your shiny, new leather seats." She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and picked up the last few boards and followed the diva down the road.

She made sure to make extra noise when she settled down into Jesse's early wedding present to his fiancé. Quinn wished he would've gotten it for her earlier to save her from playing _taxi de Rachel_ for so long. Not that she minded driving with her best friend in her passenger seat, singing obnoxiously loud to show tunes and pop music. Those were some of the best times.

A couple of blocks over, they were at the building that held the ballroom inside. After the cast party, Quinn realized the Sue Sylvester she had spoken with owned House of Jazz. Just a floor above the room they had the cast party in was the ballroom.

It was huge with a glossy, white and cream marble colored floor. Beautiful gold chandeliers dotted the ceiling and large windows draped in white and gold curtains lined the walls.

It was extravagant even without having Rachel's crazy idea for décor in it. Quinn still wasn't completely sure on how she was going to get the gold's to look silver and the whites to be baby pink, but she would figure something out. With Tina helping her out and Sam helping her with lighting, there was no doubt it wouldn't all come together.

"Wow," Rachel breathed walking to the center of the ballroom. Her footsteps echoed against the walls and off the chandeliers. "I still can't believe it,"

Her head craned back to look at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, Rachel breathed in deep and let it out smiling all the while. Quinn stepped up next to her.

"You're getting married,"

Quinn saw Rachel shudder. "Say it again."

"You're getting married, Rachel,"

"I'm getting married." She sighed a happy sigh and brought her head back down, opening her eyes. "Even though I always dreamed about it and-"

"And you had that journal with magazine clippings about what you wanted everything to look like? Thank God you didn't want to do that cheesy Broadway replication."

"It was a thought, you know." Rachel narrowed her eyes. "As I was saying, even though I always dreamed about it and had everything mapped out, I never thought it would actually happen. I mean, I had a feeling it could've happened in the later future maybe when I was thirty, but not so soon."

"Why not?"

Rachel shrugged. "You know how popular I was in high school, which was not at all." She brought up her hand. Her engagement ring sparkled in the goldenrod light. "Sometimes I sit in class and stare at it and expect it to vanish when I blink. I still can't believe it."

"I'm really happy for you," Quinn took the hand Rachel was still holding up and sandwiched it between both of hers. "I know I said it before, but I feel like I need to tell you again. I'm really happy for you, Rachel."

"Thanks,"

Quinn held onto her hand for a moment longer. She could feel the ring against her palm. She waited for that dreaded feeling that had hit her when she heard the news, but she was filled with warm, fuzzy feelings for her best friend.

Letting it go, they walked the area of the ballroom and Rachel pointed out that they needed to measure to they knew how many tables could fit and still give reasonable amount of space for the dancing area amongst other spaces that needed to be kept open.

"I want to do the wedding down in the room we had the cast party in." Rachel informed her as they jumped back into the car and headed towards her apartment. "Jesse and I looked for other places and neither of us want to do it in a church. I think that place is big enough."

"It should hold all of these people," Quinn crossed her legs in her booth. She clenched the guest list in her hand. "You have almost the entire cast from the show on this list."

"Should I not?"

"Did you even speak to all of these people?"

"No, but I thought they might want to come because of their director."

Shaking her head, Quinn picked up a pen and started crossing out names. Mostly names of dancers she knew weren't all that fond of Rachel and others who didn't like St. James much. Even as she crossed out name after name, the list was still very long.

Rachel sat back on the other side of the booth. "I want you to be my maid of honor."

Quinn laughed. Another name was crossed out on the list. "Who else would it be?"

"You're not that hard to replace." Quinn rolled her eyes. "I also want Tina and Brittany to be my bridesmaids."

The pen scratched halfway across the page. "Wait, what?" She blinked. "Tina and Brittany?"

Rachel nodded. "As you know, I don't have any friends back in Lima because those friends happen to be sitting across from me at the moment and we didn't make many friends from school." She snatched the list away to look at it. "I'm a month into this fall semester and I don't converse with any of the people in my theatrical performance class outside of school."

"So you want Tina and _Brittany?_"

"Tina and Mike have become very good friends of ours and I think Jesse asked if he could be an usher since all his grooms people have been filled up. I like Tina, and since Brittany sort of squeezed her way in, and I doubt she'll be going anywhere," she flashed a glance at Quinn that she couldn't quite read in its quickness, "I want her to be there too."

"Fine," Quinn shrugged.

"How are you and Brittany? Or, better question, how are you after that blow out with your parents?"

"Both are fine."

"Meaning you haven't progressed with Brittany at all, and the blow out with your parents is still eating at you." Quinn glared at her across the table. Rachel tapped her temple. "Sixth sense."

"Not now, Rach," Quinn rested her chin on the heel of her hand. "I don't want to talk about any of that right now."

"Whatever you want," Rachel scooped up her guest lists and stuffed them into her bag.

"Where are you going? Are you leaving?"

Nodding, she slipped out of the booth and stepped into her shoes by the front door. "I've got to send these names off to the company that's doing our invitations and Jesse has some sort of night planned for us."

"Shouldn't you be waiting for your honeymoon?" Quinn joked.

"Ha-ha," Rachel spoke sarcastically. "I'll be calling you in a couple days to meet me and Tina for your dress fitting."

"I can't wait!" Quinn bounced on her toes, holding the door open for Rachel.

Rachel's elbow jammed into her rib for her sarcasm before she bounded down the steps, waving over her shoulder and blew her a kiss. Quinn resisted the urge to dip back into her childish high school days and stick out her tongue and simply closed the door.

Her eyes drifted over to the left over boards against the wall and the paint still blotting her skin.

The night would be long.

-/-/-/-

Quinn walked lazily into the club.

That familiar scent of alcohol, heated flesh and arousal washed up through her nose. The music blared in her ears and she winced as her eardrums got use to it. The thud of the heavy bass rumbled in her chest, rattling her bones together. It made her dizzy and nauseated for a moment but she regained her composure and hurried over to the bar.

Her eyes scanned the groups of people avoiding the dance floor for Brittany. She had gotten to the exit of her apartment complex before spinning back around and showering. She threw on her best club clothes, straightened her hair, and left out the door.

Quinn told her request to the bartender who hurried to make her drink. She sat with her back against the bar so she could look at the dance floor across the way. The normal scene of people gyrating and jumping to the heavy music while the DJ controlled their tempo and the vulgarity of their dance moves. A rap song was playing and bodies began to grind hard into each other at the sleazy lyrics. Quinn turned to get her drink.

Her eyes swept over the dance floor to where the DJ's booth was. People tapped on the glass surrounding him, requesting songs for him to play. She switched the direction of her eyes to the outer rim of the floor to see the people who were a little shyer, sipping drinks until they were intoxicated enough to plunge deeper. She took a swig of her own drink. The alcohol burned all the way down her throat.

Her attention fell to the center, the heart of the dance floor. That was where the ones most far gone and the ones with the wildest moves were. She watched the carefully, studying the way their mouths were open in smiles and their eyes were a blaze with excitement and heat. Quinn's hand tingled around her glass as she started to think of her paintbrush in hand as she illustrated the scene.

"Fabray," The voice was thick and heavy and not Brittany's. She turned to see Santana sitting down on a stool next to her.

"Santana," She greeted.

The bartender offered her another drink but she waved it off. It would be her last one because Quinn hated that sluggishness and disproportionate feeling that alcohol left her in.

"I'll take one, Holliday," Santana waved to the slender blonde bartender. "What're you doing here?" Her hand clasped around a glass and she took a deep drink.

"Brittany said she was coming here." She said over the music. "Have you seen her?"

"Mhm," She said into her glass. "I saw her."

"Where is she?"

Santana shrugged. "Haven't seen her since I switched posts with Matt." Her thumb pointed over to the guy in the DJ booth grooving to the beat of his own tunes.

"I thought you worked at _Cheerio's_."

"Waitress by day, DJ by night." She sipped. "Ever call Sylvester?"

Quinn nodded. "Everything's booked. Thank you for your help, Santana." She only nodded drinking down the last drop of her drink. She waved for another. "We also need a DJ-"

"-Last resort, Fabray. I'll be your last resort if you can't find anyone else." Turning around on the stool, Santana rested her elbows on the bar, her eyes drawn out to the crowd. "I hate weddings."

"Thanks for being a back up if all else fails."

"Uh huh,"

Quinn leaned her elbow on the bar and rested her hand on the heel of her hand. She drew her eyes back to the dancers. Many blonde heads poked out and many slender, dancing bodies spun to the music. She pulled out her phone to send Brittany a text, but if Brittany were anything like Quinn was when she painted, she'd miss the text or call.

Her eyes traveled over to Santana who lounged back against the counter, one leg crossed over the other. Quinn was still curious about her and her supposed friendship with Brittany. At the café, they easily passed as close friends, but the way Santana's kiss had lingered on Brittany's cheek and her hand dipped low on her back, Quinn couldn't shake that there was something more.

Not that it mattered if they were or not. Quinn could careless who Brittany wanted to be with or messed around with. It didn't matter to her. Yet, the twist her stomach gave at the thought of Santana pressing her lips to any other part of Brittany than her cheek told her she did care.

Quinn's muscles tensed when a hand pressed flat against her back. An arm came around to circle her waist and a mess of blonde hair that wasn't hers fell over her shoulder bringing the scent of cinnamon, sweat and alcohol.

"Quinn," Brittany's voice ghosted over her ear causing the hairs on her neck to rise and an electric wave coast through her body.

She dragged her tongue over the inside of her cheek. "Brittany,"

Her hand dropped from her back to join the other that was curved around her. "You came," She said through a smile as her body pressed into Quinn.

"I did,"

"I'm glad," Brittany's lips touched her earlobe in a soft kiss. Quinn shivered. "And you found San," She pecked her temple before pulling away.

Quinn frowned at the absence of Brittany against her. She danced away from Quinn to Santana who let her legs fall open. Brittany sank between them allowing Santana to kiss her cheek.

"You were looking for me?" Santana asked, running her hand down Brittany's face.

Her dark brown eyes flicked to Quinn for a moment before she touched her lips to the blonde's. Brittany smiled but the action didn't reach her eyes. Santana saw it and narrowed her eyes while Quinn smirked.

"Matt wants you in the booth." Brittany leaned out of Santana's hand and removed the other one that had slid to her thigh from her.

"I just left," Santana set her glass on the counter so it banged loud enough to be heard over the music. Brittany's bottom lip pouted and Quinn saw her friend falter. "Fine," She slid off the stool.

"Play my favorite song please, S?" She asked, grinning oh so innocently like a little girl asking for a lollipop.

Santana hooked around her back pulling Brittany into her. Her voice dipped into a husk. "If you come home with me tonight."

Quinn's spine went straight and her jaw clenched. Brittany looked over at her before looking back down at Santana and kissing her nose. "I can't,"

"Okay," Santana said letting go of Brittany. "At least come by the café."

Brittany danced over to the seat that had just been occupied and plopped down. She picked up the half gone drink Santana had been drinking and took a sip. "I'll come by the café."

"You better,"

"Play my favorite song?" Santana nodded curtly and Brittany smirked in triumph. "I'll come by tomorrow evening."

Satisfied, or not so satisfied, Santana marched through the masses of people to reclaim her spot in the DJ booth.

Quinn sat up straight on the stool watching Brittany drink down the last of the drink. She licked her lips then reached her finger in the glass and sucked off the drops. Blue eyes flashed to Quinn out of the corner of her eye so quick Quinn almost missed it.

"Santana doesn't like to share," She answered Quinn's confused look.

"I thought you two were just friends."

"We are friends," She turned to face Quinn, setting the glass on the bar and took up her hand. She turned it palm up on her knee and began to trace the lines in Quinn's hand. "We've been friends since she came home with me one night."

"So you've slept with her?"

"Often," Quinn tried to jerk her hand away but Brittany kept it in her grasp. "It was only meant to be once but Santana and I," She looked directly into Quinn's eyes, a strange sadness filling them that didn't belong. "We found ourselves lonely a lot of the time."

"And now?"

"I'm not so lonely anymore," She blinked away for a moment to observed Santana in the booth next to Matt. "She doesn't really like that."

"But you're not together."

"Santana is kind of possessive,"

"So am I," The words came out of her mouth before Quinn could put together what they meant.

The corners of Brittany's mouth pulled back so her smile reached her eyes, creasing them. She brought up Quinn's hand and kissed her fingers. "Dance with me?"

Quinn nodded. Brittany curled her fingers around her hand and pulled her away from the bar. She squeezed them through until they were in the center of the commotion, her hands firmly on Quinn's waist just like before.

"You're not going to run from me again are you?" Quinn shook her head and Brittany spun her so her front was against Quinn's back. "Why did you last time?"

Images and memories of the past flooded into Quinn's mind. The feel of Puck's hands weighing on her hips and the way he whispered into her ear. She could feel his rough lips on hers and his liquor drenched tongue sliding against hers in her mouth.

Quinn shivered in disgust. "Quinn?" Brittany's arms tightened around her. She closed her eyes trying to let Brittany's arms on her be Brittany's and not the shadow of Puck's.

"I lost my virginity one night at a party." She said quietly. Brittany's hips rolled behind her and she pinched her eyes tighter together. "I cheated on my boyfriend and gave it away to his best friend."

Quinn dropped her hands to pull Brittany's from around her. She turned around to look up into her face. "He's the father."

Brittany stoked her cheek softly. "Everyone makes mistakes,"

"But look at where mine got me." Quinn started to move to the music again to match the rest of the crowd. "It ruined everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything," She yelled with the climax of the music. Brittany took her hand twirling her around. "I was cheer captain, straight A, perfect student, the most popular girl at school and I screwed it up. I screwed my life up because of that mistake."

"But if that never happened," Brittany draped Quinn's arms over her shoulders, pulling her in closer so she could hear her. "Would you have ever met Rachel and learned to paint and gotten to where you are now?"

Quinn laughed sardonically. "I could've had more,"

"Like what?"

"Like- God, I don't know!" She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling all sorts of embarrassed. "Like a family who still loved me."

Brittany frowned. "Rachel loves you,"

"Rachel's not family," She said, dryly.

"But she's as close as family you have and the way you were with her, the way she took care of you, was more love than your own parents had for you."

"Doesn't mean it hurts any less."

"No, it doesn't," Brittany dropped her forehead to rest against Quinn's. Her thumbs rubbed against the skin beneath Quinn's shirt in a comforting motion. "But you found love somewhere else. In Rachel and her dads."

"It's so strange not having her around all the time."

A breathy laugh emitted from Brittany's throat. Quinn brought up her eyes to meet hers. "You forget that Rachel's not the only one who cares about you." Her lips touched the place between Quinn's eyes. "I care about you,"

"I know," She said, easily. "I haven't let anyone else care for me since…except…"

Her forehead slipped away from Quinn's so her mouth hovered by her ear. "So let me,"

Quinn caught her breath in her throat. "I don't know…"

Brittany pulled her closer still. "Let me,"

Quinn pressed her head into Brittany's chest. She clutched onto her shirt from behind, her arms holding her as tight into her body as she could.

The music was blasting and upbeat, but Brittany kept them at a slow rock. After a while, Quinn couldn't even hear the music or feel the bumping of the people around her. All she could hear was the beat of Brittany's heart in her ear and the warmth admitting from Brittany's strong, protecting, comforting body.

She closed her eyes and just coasted. Coasted along on Brittany's words and willed them to sink into her.

"You're not what your parents say you are." Brittany spoke suddenly. "You're amazing, Quinn. You're worth more than you've been giving yourself."

"Am I really?" She asked, voice dripping with skepticism.

"Yes, you are."

"If you were anyone else who said that to me I wouldn't believe it." She said, pulling back to look up. "But when you say it, I can't help but believe it no matter how hard I try not to."

"That's because I'm not your parents or Rachel." Brittany dragged her hands from around Quinn's waist to hold her face in her hands.

Brittany wasn't obligated to tell her anything. Not how they were. "You're not them…" Quinn muttered, but her voice was lost in the noise.

"Quinn, you're perfect." Brittany ducked her head down enough so their eyes were level. "I want you to believe that."

Air was gone out of her lungs when she felt Brittany's lips press into hers. Her body went rigid but melted all at once. An inferno raged in her bones as the sparks flew up and down her body. Brittany's scent went straight up her nose and exploded in her brain making her dizzy.

She could no longer feel her legs, only Brittany's hands still cupping her face, holding her in place, anchoring her down so she wouldn't float away just yet.

"More than anything, I want you to believe." Brittany panted. The sound of her ragged breathing was sweet in her ears, but the next thing she said made her lose everything. "I want to help you believe that."

People whizzed by Quinn like speeding cars on a highway as Brittany pulled them out of the crowd and off the dance floor. The heat of the club was replaced by the heat of a sticky, humid, hot night.

Gentle hands eased her into the passenger seat of her car but Quinn hardly remembered the ride back to her apartment – _their _apartment.

She hardly remembered the trek up the stairs and inside where Brittany guided her into her room.

When her back was pressed against a damp canvas and static lips were on hers again, everything started to come back into focus.

Brittany was kissing her. But Brittany wasn't just kissing her. It wasn't the sweet pecks she would get on her cheek when she'd say something Brittany thought was adorable, or a chaste kiss on the forehead before Brittany left to the studio.

It wasn't a comforting kiss to her temple when they were curled up on the couch together late at night, or lingering kisses on her eyelids that roused her awake in groggy mornings.

It was a kiss of passion, of desire, of meaning_. _It sent Quinn's defenses all flaring up, but the gentle way Brittany's hands were holding her waist, and the slow, and hesitant way her lips moved on hers pushed away the ill emotions that she associated with such contact because Brittany wasn't Puck. Brittany was Brittany and Brittany cared about her.

Bringing her arms up, she pulled Brittany closer to her so their bodies pressed together, inviting Brittany into the space she had held her back from. Brittany's tongue slid over her bottom lip asking her permission and Quinn granted it. The taste of mangos, strawberries and vodka pricked at her taste buds making her head swim.

Cold thumbs rubbed at the sliver of skin showing from the base of her shirt that were then replaced by the span of Brittany's whole hand against her sides. They slid behind her back and up her spine, short nails creased into her shoulder blades and slid down. Quinn shuddered at the sensation that shot through her nerves.

Her head lolled back as Brittany left her mouth to kiss down her jaw and made it to her neck. Soft nips and pulsing sucks made her breathing ragged. Her mouth found the place just below her ear and bit down making Quinn squirm and moan.

The sound caught her off guard and Brittany kissed her surprise away as she unbuttoned the buttons of Quinn's vest and yanked it off her arms. Quinn's shirt was slithered up her torso and discarded on the floor.

Brittany took a step back away from her.

"Don't go," She reached out, grasping her wrist.

Brittany's fingers wrapped around her arm and eased it away. "I'm not going anywhere."

Once Quinn let go, Brittany pulled her tank top of her head and threw it to joins Quinn's garments. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. It fell at her feet.

Quinn's eyes widened as she took in Brittany's bare top half in the dim light of her room that came in from the streetlights outside. A reassuring smile came on Brittany's mouth as she stepped forward and eased her body against Quinn's.

Skin touched skin like fire meeting fire. Quinn's hands roamed the naked flesh of her back, her side, her arms and stomach. Brittany leaned back for a moment and Quinn gasped as her own bra dropped off her shoulders and was taken off her arms and hit the floor.

"Is this okay?" Brittany asked, keeping a gap between them.

Quinn answered her by kissing her again. She pushed away from the canvas, backing Brittany up until the heels of her feet hit the mattress and they went crashing down onto it.

The laugh in Quinn's throat turned into a whimper when she felt Brittany take one of her breast in her mouth and suck. She held herself up with hands on either side of the dancer's head; panting and aching with want and need.

Skilled fingers unhooked her button and slid down her zipper. Flipping them over, Brittany slid down Quinn's jeans taking everything underneath with her.

Cold air rushed over Quinn and she tensed, her mind dipping away from the moment and into things she wanted to forget but still plagued her in the dead of night.

"Quinn," Brittany's voice whispering her name brought her back.

Her hand smoothed down between Quinn's breast and over her stomach, fingers tracing over faint stretch marks she wished she could get rid of and every other flaw and blemish in her skin. Brittany's eyes just looked at her, not stared, but looked.

When her eyes made it back to Quinn's and she spoke, Quinn knew she was telling the truth. "You're so beautiful, Quinn. Every part of you,"

Warm lips touched her cheek. "Every freckle," She kissed her shoulder then dipped over her collarbone and down her chest. "Every scar," She kissed her hipbone. "You're perfect,"

The trail of kisses sank lower over her thighs coming closer and closer to her center with each kiss. Quinn stopped her before she could go any further and pulled her up to kiss her again.

She snaked her hands down to Brittany's jean shorts and undid them. Brittany eased them and her underwear down with them. Her long legs stretched far and long and strong. One fell to either side of Quinn's hips and she could feel the heat between her legs burning over her own.

"Brittany," Quinn broke free of the kiss. "I need to know I can trust you." She murmured.

She moved hair out of her face and kissed above her eyebrow. "You can trust me."

"How do I know I can?" Quinn asked feeling stupid, but she needed to know. She couldn't make it like the first time or the throw away times she hooked up with Finn.

Their noses bumped and Quinn opened her eyes to look in the oceans so close to hers she could see the flakes of darker blue around the pupils. "I stayed,"

Quinn let out a long breath. "You stayed,"

"I will," Her lips moved on Quinn's as she spoke. "For as long as you want me to."

Quinn combed her hands through the blonde hair that spilled around her. "I want to believe."

"Let me help you."

Brittany's lips restarted their trail down Quinn's body. Her hands grasped the blanket beneath her as she got lower and lower. Hot hands ran up her legs and grasped onto her hips.

"Let me," Brittany said again, looking up at Quinn from where she hovered between her legs.

"I'll try," Quinn promised her, the last of her words coming in a shallow whisper as Brittany's mouth landed on her heat.

_I'll try._

_Til Next Chapter  
_


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX**

There were things that Quinn couldn't yet wrap her mind around. Like why did bad things happen to good people or why a person could be so angry to kill another human being. Like why she thought the close-minded people who were her parents would turn a blind eye to her pregnancy or why she had been handed over into the hands of Rachel Berry out of all people.

Yet, those things started to sink in and seem more plausible than the finger tracing lazy patterns on her face while her hand was being clasped tightly against another chest where a quick beating heart pounding against it. Those things didn't boggle her mind like the set of long, toned legs that were tangled with hers and the warm puffs of air that tickled her face. Those things seemed more real than the blonde before her and the lingering euphoria of the high she was slowly coming down because of her.

Her body still buzzed from the unexpected thrill. They had been trying to put a bed frame together so Quinn's room would be a more suitable guest room. It ended with Brittany kissing away her frustration at the directions, garments being shed and two panting and beaming blondes on the floor.

Even as it happened, Quinn was sure she'd soon wake up. It was all too slow and sensual and hot and passionate and fun. Those words were hardly ever used in her vocabulary, let alone in one sentence.

It made her light headed just thinking about it.

Brittany leaned in to give her a kiss. Quinn savored it. It had been so long since she had been kissed the way that Brittany did. It made her feel sky high and happy. She scratched everything else. First kisses with Finn could never measure up to what Brittany gave her.

"Are you still frustrated?"

The vibration of her words jolted through Quinn. "Far from it,"

"Good,"

Warm lips over took hers and Quinn melted all over again. She bent her legs and felt Brittany's core hit her thigh still hot and damp. The dancer sucked in a breath. Quinn took that moment to slid her tongue past perfect teeth and taste Brittany's mouth.

Slender hips canted towards hers making Quinn moan at the pressure that hit up into her. "We have to fin..."

Her words were lost as Brittany dropped from her mouth to suck the spot beneath her ear that made her instantly weak at the knees.

"Britt," she gave a breathy laugh. "The bed..."

"We can move there if you'd like." She said into her neck. Teeth bit into her skin. Quinn shifted her hips so her thigh grounded into Brittany again. Teeth sank deeper.

"No," Quinn found strength enough to press her hand onto Brittany's chest, pushing her back enough to see her face.

Blue, shining blue, eyes looked back at her. Quinn bit her lip at the intensity that came from them. It made her heart race - this new way that Brittany looked at her. It was like she wanted to devour all of Quinn all at once.

"We have to finish putting the bed together." She finally got out.

She looked past Quinn to eye the metal poles and screws and things that they had neglected not but twenty minutes into their attempts.

"Oh," she started to pull away.

Quinn grabbed her, holding her in place. "Maybe not just yet."

Snickering, Brittany eased back down above Quinn. Her knees fell to either side of her hips and her elbows pressed around her head.

Blonde hair fell like a curtain around their faces. "You're amazing," she kissed her nose.

Quinn slid her hands down Brittany's back, grinning when she saw her shiver. "I think you have me confused with yourself."

"You're amazing," she said again.

Quinn stared up in her eyes alternating from the left one to the right, from right to left. The hunger had gone away, but the way Brittany looked at her was different and new and intense. Like she was now allowing Quinn to see how she really felt about her. There were no more hesitant glances or surface pecks on the cheek. Everything Brittany did was deeper, stronger, more.

It frightened Quinn just as much as it excited her. She wondered if Brittany saw the new way she looked at her. Every morning of waking up to the dancer, she was seeing Brittany for the first time every time.

The knock on the front door brought the moment to an end. Quinn kissed Brittany's nose before she rolled off and passed Quinn her clothes. As they redressed, the knocking grew louder and less patient.

"Santana," Brittany stated, straightening out her shirt. She kissed Quinn long and hard then bounced off to answer it.

It took Quinn a moment to recover, but was clothed with her hair looking close to tamely as she walked out to see Santana struggling with pulling in sound equipment.

"Bastards stole half my shit." She was saying as she came in. "And you know what? The stupid manager doesn't hardly give a damn that someone broke into my apartment. 'There's not much we can do but file a police report'," she mocked. "Bet those assholes don't even care."

"Hey, Santana," Quinn waved.

The Latina looked up to her, catching her untidy hair, Brittany's unruly mane, their slightly wrinkled clothes and the scent of one another on each other.

"Well fuck," Santana dropped a speaker on the floor. Quinn was the only one who jumped. "Imma go get the rest out of the car."

Brittany took Quinn in her arms and kissed her deeply. "She likes you," She said, tapping the tip of Quinn's nose with a finger.

"If that's her liking me, I don't want her to ever hate me." Quinn made a face but it was quickly put back into a smile at the soft lips grazing over her eyebrow.

"I'm going to go help her bring stuff inside." Quinn nodded and watched Brittany flutter out with dancers grace.

Looking down at the speaker, she sighed. Santana was going be the DJ for the wedding, and to pay her back for doing an event she hated, Quinn let her stay with her and Brittany for a few days until she got her apartment back in order.

She heard the voices of the girls coming up the hall and laughed at their heaves as they tried to hoist up equipment. Santana would've kept it in her car, but she was paranoid that someone would break into her car and still her equipment as well.

Quinn had mixed emotions about Santana staying with them even if it were only for a while. Something about the girl made her uncomfortable. Except, it wasn't just something, because Quinn knew what the something was.

In the back of her mind, the fact the two had a past rubbed her uneasy. She spent enough time around them and Santana was filled in on the status of her and Brittany, but their closeness made Quinn unsettled. She felt like she had stepped between something and was invading on what was private to the two.

But then Quinn wondered if that was how Brittany felt when Rachel was around. She guessed it was only normal to feel that way when you were presented with two people who knew each other so well.

Back and forth went the two until all of Santana's DJ equipment was a pile in the eating area. Beside that was a titanic sized suitcase of her clothes and things. Quinn laughed quietly to herself as she helped Brittany make them all something to eat. Three of them once again.

"How long do you think you'll be staying?" Quinn asked, biting into her ham sandwich.

Santana shrugged, snatching up her grilled cheese and took a crunchy bite. "You can kick me out whenever you want."

Quinn's eyebrow arched. "That wasn't what I meant,"

She smirked and turned her body so her legs sprawled the rest of the booth seat. "Locks on the apartment are getting changed tomorrow so, like, three days? I won't be around a lot so you and Britt have enough privacy."

"How thoughtful of you," Brittany joked.

"Aren't I always?" Brittany made a face that said she was not always thoughtful, and a piece of crunchy toast crust flicked across the table, hitting Brittany in the cheek.

Brittany scrunched up her nose. "Are you coming to the recital tonight?" She asked to her friend across the way from her.

"You're not dancing, so why would I?"

"Because you're thoughtful, remember?" She gave her a sideways glance. "And you can keep Quinn company while I'm backstage."

Quinn blinked from Brittany to the other girl. She was staring back at her with a blank look. Quinn had gotten sort of used to it. There weren't many ways Santana looked at her. It was an eye roll, a smirk, a furrowed brow or a blank canvas. She had never seen her smile, at least not at her. Those were reserved for Brittany it seemed.

Quinn bit her lip. "You don't have to-"

"Okay," Santana cut in quickly, finishing the last of her sandwich. "I'll go," She shrugged away the surprised look on Quinn's face and the smug one on Brittany's. "Since I didn't come to your show."

Brittany's bottom lip poked out slightly as she got up taking away their plates. "And you said you'd come for me."

"Isn't that something you should be asking Quinn to do?" Santana's lips curled into a crooked grin.

"Oh," Brittany placed the plates in the sink and turned to face them. "I don't have to ask."

Quinn felt her cheeks light up like Christmas lights. Santana's cackle deepened it and Brittany's attempt to kiss the blush away made it even worse.

A hand slipped into hers, pulling her up out of the booth. "Come on," Brittany pulled her along back into the guest room. She heard the front door of the apartment close as Santana left.

Brittany dropped her hand and picked up the instructions to finish the bed. Quinn read them on her tiptoes over her shoulder. She would've been fine with keeping her mattress and her room and making Rachel's old room the guest room. But Brittany had said something about her full sized mattress, though nice, was a little small for them to be sharing and also that beds were fun. Whatever she meant by fun, Quinn let it go past her and set out looking for a new frame.

They had the base all finished by the time Santana came back with a few grocery items because, "I'm not going to make you feed me. I can do that myself," Santana had said and went on stocking her things into the fridge.

Brittany helped her set the new mattress down onto the bed before she kissed her sweetly and went off to get ready for the recital.

Quinn pulled a bedspread set from the closet in the short hall, and tossed the blankets on the floor. She picked out the tuck sheet, crisp and white, and fanned it out. She took a deep breath as Rachel's favorite detergent scent filled the air. Rachel would never really leave from the place and Rachel would never actually leave her.

"You don't have to worry about me, you know."

Quinn tucked the last corner of the tuck sheet before straightening up to turn and look at Santana. She was standing at the door with her arms crossed over her chest and a bottle of beer in one hand she had obviously brought for herself because Quinn didn't keep alcohol in her fridge.

Quinn raised an eyebrow and bent down to pick up the next sheet. "About what?"

"Me and B," the beer sloshed in the bottle as she took a drink. "We ended that- let me correct myself. She ended that a long time ago. We haven't slept together for, like, months."

Quinn's back went rigid. She hadn't really wanted to think about it. "You did know we hooked up, right?"

"Yeah, she told me." Quinn nodded. She threw on the blanket and smoothed it out, tucking the corners and ends in all the right places.

"Of course she did,"

Quinn watched Santana out the corner of her eye, trying to gauge her tone and her direction. She came up blank. Santana was the only person Quinn had met who made her draw a blank. She was like a brick wall reinforced with metal bars and bulletproof glass. It was so different from Brittany she wondered how they got along. Then again, Brittany had cracked Quinn hadn't she?

She spread her hand over the sheet and turned to sit down on the bed. "I never meant for this to happen with me and Brittany." She started, and Santana blinked at her. "I didn't even want her around after...I didn't know there was a you."

Santana made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a mix between a laugh and cough. "No," her face contorted like she was struggling against her next words. "There was you,"

Quinn narrowed her eyes confused, and Santana smirked like a taunting little kid would when they knew something the other person didn't. Quinn held off the question as to what she meant. She wouldn't have gotten an answer or a straight one at that. That much she did know about this girl.

Santana's dark eyes dipped away from Quinn to eye the painting she had mounted on the wall. "I don't really see what's so amazing about it." She said about the painting. "She did, obviously."

"Does it bother you?" Quinn asked, ignoring the small blow Santana's words had thrown at her. "Me and Brittany?"

"I knew what you meant," her gaze was slow to leave the decorative canvas and sweep back to Quinn. She stared up into them feeling unnerved and uncomfortable at being stuck in those deep brown voids.

"Britt was good to me," she shrugged and took another long drink. "She's good to everybody, but not how she was to me," the corner of her mouth tweaked. "Or you."

"She's a good person."

"And that's why you don't have to worry about me." She stated. "I was bad news for her."

"Santana, you're not-"

She laughed mockingly. "You don't know me, Quinn."

Quinn watched her drink down the last of her beer while she swallowed Santana's words. They were true. She didn't know Santana. She almost wondered if Santana knew Santana. Maybe only Brittany knew her for sure just like Brittany knew Quinn before she even remembered herself.

"You better take care of her." The warning tone caught her off guard. "You better take care of her because I know where you live and I have a copy of your key now."

Quinn only smiled and toed at the blanket on the floor. "I don't know how I can do more for her than she has for me."

"You keep painting," Santana answered like it was the answer to all things. "That's what you can do." And maybe it was, but Quinn didn't quite understand.

"It's only colors on a canvas." She sighed.

"Do you think her dancing is just moving to music?" Quinn shook her head, and Santana looked back at the painting on the wall. "She doesn't think so either."

If she meant about her painting or the dancing, Quinn didn't know. Her mind was already sparked enough by the things Santana had said. None of it made complete sense to her like an incomplete puzzle with sections missing and the picture of what if should look like was out of sight.

Santana knew more than she was giving, Quinn was certain, but by the way she was talking, she wanted her to put the rest together with Brittany not her.

"Does it bother you?" She asked again because she hadn't actually gotten an answer from it.

She saw Santana's lips kink in a slight grin. "Does it matter? She's happy with you."

"I suppose,"

"Look," she pushed off the doorframe to stand straight. "Me and Britt...it was just sex, got it? That's nothing when you can be with someone and have it mean something more."

Feeling swelled up in Quinn's gut. It meant so much to her and had ever since the first time. Each moment was lit and sparking like fireworks. It made her heart expand at just the thought.

Santana noticed it and laughed. "Bet it's nice,"

"Did you love her?"

For the first time, Quinn saw all the barricades around Santana falter. A bit of color came into her eyes for a moment before washing away. It hurt Quinn to see.

"No," she said easily. "And she didn't love me." The sound of the shower in the background ended. "Not how she loves you, at least."

She turned and walked away.

-/-/-/-

The recital hall was small but full. People crowded the small lobby, munching on snacks purchased from a table manned by two young dancers who were raising money for a dance trip. Quinn grabbed a program and read the list of dance groups from Brittany's studio along with a few other guest studios that were a part of the night.

Santana tagged along with her looking slightly out of her element and indifferent about the event. Quinn still wondered why she came. She didn't come to the show and she turned down most of Brittany and Quinn's request for her to come over and have dinner or something. Not that Quinn minded her being there. It took off the oddness of Quinn being there if she were alone.

She walked over to the doors that led into the house and looked through the window. A dance group being instructed by someone Quinn didn't know was on the stage. Her eyes darted around as much as she could see to find Brittany but she didn't find her.

"You'll get to see her soon." Santana said next to her. She was looking in her program with a smirk. "Calm down."

"I am calm," She made a face.

"Uh huh," Santana tweaked her eyebrows still not looking up at her.

Quinn arched hers and turned away watching more people come into the lobby. She picked out a few of the parents she had seen picking up kids from the studio and she wondered if they knew their child's dance instructor was dating her.

Santana left her side to stop by the restroom before the doors opened and Quinn's eyes widened when she saw Mike and Tina coming through the doors. They scanned the masses of people filtering through the doors into the theatre. Tina caught sight of her and waved frantically high over her head.

Quinn threw her own hand up to wave as they drew closer.

"Hey," Tina greeted.

"I didn't know you two were coming." Quinn squeezed Tina in a hug then strung her arm around Mike's waist to give him a side one.

"We weren't," Mike said. "But the show I'm choreographing for didn't need me tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you could make it."

Tina peered over her shoulder. "Have you found seats yet?"

Quinn shook her head. "I'm waiting for Santana,"

"Santana?" Mike repeated.

"Nice to see you too, Chang," Santana's voice cut in.

The three turned towards the girl who was walking up to them. She sat her eyes on Tina and smiled before looking up to Mike with a smile that was both smug and forced.

"What're you doing here?" Tina asked.

Santana jutted her chin towards Quinn. "Keeping her company," She said like it had been the one and only reason why. "But since you're here, I can get out of here." Quinn arched an incredulous eyebrow at her. Santana shrugged. "Recitals aren't really my thing."

Mike and Tina exchange confused glances but didn't say anything to keep her from going.

Santana smiled her usual, meaningless grin. "Tell B I'll make it up to her." She threw up her and in a faux wave. "See you tomorrow."

"What was that about?" Quinn asked, but the lights inside the hall were flickering to indicate the recital would start.

She turned and walked inside, claiming seats as close to the front as the three of them could find all together. The lights soon went out completely, and the program started.

Quinn was in awe of all the performances. The age rage was as young as five-years-old to people her own age. Each group was fantastic even if they possessed different levels of skill, and the solos were simply phenomenal.

Throughout, she heard Mike whispering names of people he knew to Tina and comments on dance moves with names Quinn couldn't pronounce.

They got to the last group and when it finished, everyone stood up and applauded, but it quickly died out when one of the older dancers came out onto the stage and took the mic. The crowd sat back down and listened as he started to introduce all the instructors.

One by one, they came out to a different song and each one had to dance. The crowd laughed as one of the male instructors just did the robot and accepted the bushel of flowers the dancers had for them.

A woman came out with a funky hip-hop routine that had everyone cheering and Mike on his feet applauding happily. He pointed up at the stage and said a name to Tina and Quinn and something about meeting her at dancers convention that he had attended once.

Two more instructors took to the stage before Brittany came waltzing out. Quinn heard whispers behind her from a couple of people who knew Brittany from Jesse's show. Quinn beamed at hearing them praise her and her talents.

The music started, something that sounded classical, but a couple measures in, an electronic beat mixed in with it.

Quinn hung on each and every one of Brittany's moves. She had seen Brittany dance many times. All the time at the show, at times randomly at the apartment when Brittany didn't know Quinn was watching and on some days Quinn went to the studio and watched her instruct and free style with the girls. But this was a little different.

She wasn't constrained by set choreography or limited space of a home. She didn't have to teach anyone a dance step and she wasn't goofing off the way she did with her classes. She was dancing freely and Quinn was caught up in it.

It wasn't a long dance. It may have lasted half a minute, which was longer than the others, but the audience didn't seem to mind.

She moved and gyrated and popped to the music like it was blood coursing through her veins and the thud of the bass was pumping it through her.

Her eyes were closed as they always were when she got caught into her moves and Quinn wondered if Brittany saw herself behind her lids moving across the stage. She wondered if Brittany saw herself and was awestruck with her own moves. She wondered if Brittany saw herself and thought she was as flawless and beautiful as Quinn thought she was.

Brittany did a leap to finish out her routine with a final spin that put her in front of the little girl holding her bouquet of flowers. She took them and patted the enamored girl on the head before joining the group of instructors.

The applause from Brittany's dance filtered into the applause for the rest of the instructors and didn't fade until everyone cleared the stage and the house lights clicked on.

The theatre roared with voices.

"Everyone was so good." Tina commented as Quinn led them up the aisle and back into the foyer.

Mike nodded not really paying attention. He was trying to look over heads to find people. He caught sight of someone he knew and excused himself from the two women.

Once he was gone, Quinn turned to Tina and asked, "Does Mike not like Santana?"

She had been wondering since the girl left. It hadn't seemed comfortable between the two and Tina's furrowed brow only confirmed that there was something unfriendly between the two.

Tina sighed. "Maybe you should ask Brittany."

"I know about her and Brittany." Quinn said and Tina looked quite surprised but not as surprised as she did when a pair of arms circled Quinn from behind and Brittany kissed her cheek.

A red-hot blush crept onto Quinn's face. "Hey," Brittany greeted, kissing her again. "Hi Tina," She pulled away to hug her still stunned friend.

Brittany turned back to Quinn, her eyes surveying the empty place on either side of her. A slight frown found its way onto her mouth before it turned into an annoyed purse of the lips then lastly a smile.

"She says she'll make it up to you." Quinn answered her previous looks.

Brittany only nodded. "Where's Mike?" Tina pointed in the direction of her husband across the way. "Oh!" Brittany's mood shot back up and she skipped away.

Quinn met Tina's eyes. "I take it you didn't know about me and Brittany."

"No," She shook her head. "Since when? And you know Santana already?"

It was when they were crowded at Quinn's booth with greasy hamburgers they bought from a joint right outside of downtown did everything get put onto the table.

Brittany told Mike and Tina the full story on her moving in and how her and Quinn sort of fell into a relationship after a long four months. Quinn had blushed and bit her lip and flushed in all the right places because Brittany kept giving her small, fleeting looks that made her insides warm and her stomach churn. They were looks Quinn would see Jesse give Rachel from time to time. Knowing that made her heart flutter in her chest.

She went into an explanation of the equipment in an untidy pile still sitting in the eating area. It was first to simply explain about Santana's apartment getting broken into but it ended up with Quinn hearing more about Santana and Brittany's _relationship. _

"I don't trust her," Mike said slowly.

"San likes Quinn." Brittany said gently. "She's always known how I felt about Quinn." Blue eyes met hazel and Quinn couldn't quite gather what the deeper meaning in Brittany's voice meant. As if she had liked Quinn for longer than Quinn knew.

"She's living here," Mike pointed out, his eyes flickering to the speakers and things. "With you and Quinn."

"Temporarily," Quinn pointed out.

"Has it ever been temporary with Santana?" He frowned. Tina gave Quinn a sympathetic look, but she understood Mike's concern for his best friend.

Brittany told Quinn herself that the one night was only meant to be one night. Then they turned into more nights and kept going after that. Quinn had witnessed firsthand how flirtatious Santana was and how good she was at stealing attention for herself. Those touches and comments and lingering kisses she'd give Brittany, Quinn was sure they used to sweep the blonde off her feet.

It made sense for Mike to be worried that she was only around to keep Brittany for herself, because all Mike was concerned, Santana didn't want just a temporary fling with Brittany.

"No," Quinn interrupted Mike who was telling Brittany how she had spent nights at the café because Santana had dragged her out from club to club until she had no more money to pay for rent on the apartment.

She caught Brittany's long frown. There was more to things then Brittany was telling her own friends. Like Quinn, Brittany had her own set of past secrets. She just hadn't learned them yet.

"I talked to Santana," Quinn continued. She took up Brittany's hand beneath the table. "She actually came and talked to me and," She worried her lip between her teeth glancing from the faces. "I trust her."

Brittany squeezed her hand drawing her eyes over to her. Quinn gave her a small smile. Only Brittany understood how hard it was for trust to come across Quinn and for her to take Santana's words meant a lot. Even if Mike shrugged still not convinced and Tina was giving them worried looks, Brittany looked relieved because Quinn trusted someone she didn't have to and had reason not to.

She had left after all. If Santana really wanted to rile something up between them, she would've stuck around and made them uncomfortable. Quinn didn't like that Santana had left, but it backed up the things she had said before.

"The two of you are really sweet together." Tina beamed from the stairwell that led down from the apartment. Quinn and Brittany stood in the doorframe watching them go. "I'm happy for you, Britt."

Brittany bounced out the door and hugged her tightly.

Quinn watched the couple go and sighed.

-/-/-/-

Once Brittany walked into their bedroom, Quinn wrapped her arms around her neck, kissing her deeply. The scent of body wash and shampoo ran up into Quinn's nose making her mouth water at the delicious scent. She could feel Brittany's smile as she kissed her back and allowed Quinn to pull them down onto the bed.

Her eyes rolled back as Brittany's tongue entered her mouth with the taste of minty toothpaste. Her lips were soft and slick against Quinn's. She could never get enough of kissing Brittany.

Each time was new and delicious and always left Quinn wanting more of her lips and more of Brittany. She loved how every kiss could mean something different and have a different effect. Some one of them led them on quickly and erupted arousal deep inside of them both that ended up with them soon panting and tingling all over. Other times the kisses were long and drawn out but passionate that could end with simple cuddling or exhausted and burning.

Some kisses, like the one they were caught in, were just an exchange of things they couldn't speak with words. Quinn could never fully express how Brittany made her feel. How just a brush of her hand or her lips or a quick look set her off and made her feel wanted and cared about and protected. She couldn't explain how free and easy and light Brittany made her feel.

She could hardly breath with Brittany's fragrance and her heaviness of her heart weighing on her. When Brittany pulled back, she was gasping for air, her fingers gripping into her still damp hair.

"Hi," Brittany's mouth pulled into a lopsided grin.

"Hey," Quinn loosened her grip in her hair and stroked a hand through it. "You danced great tonight."

Brittany smiled. "You were beautiful tonight,"

"You always say that."

"It's always true,"

Quinn took Brittany's bottom lip into her mouth and sucked. Teeth bit down on her top one making her snicker. She titled them over so Brittany fell onto the bed next to her.

Quinn grabbed her hand and twined her fingers into Brittany's. "Why do you love to dance?" Brittany tweaked her eyebrows up. "You said you danced so much just like why I paint so much."

"Because I love it." She answered in a far away voice. "The movement and the music and what I can do with it."

"That's nothing like why I paint."

She chuckled softly and ran a finger down between Quinn's eyes and off the tip of her nose. "I like it when people watch me dance and people like it when I dance.

"Your dancing is flawless, Brittany."

Brittany kissed her softly. "You're sweet," She nuzzled in closer. "I used dancing as a way to get people. Santana wasn't the only one I slept with."

Quinn felt a sort of envy rise in her. Brittany brought up their hands to kiss Quinn's knuckles instantly easing away the tension that had wound up in her joints.

"Santana was the most constant and it wasn't just for the sex with her. We talked and we hung out and became friends." Her gazed flickered like she was seeing the things in front of her. "That's why Mike's worried."

Quinn shook her head. She understood that already. "Why did you even feel that way? Mike and Tina adore you and the dancers and the kids and everything."

"There's always a time when we're surrounded by hundreds of people but still feel like no one can see us." Quinn understood the feeling well. She tightened her hold on Brittany's hand. "But me and San stopped."

"Why? If you two had been doing it for so long, why not just be with her?"

Brittany laughed easily. "Santana doesn't like to be tied down." She answered and laughed a little more like it was a funny joke. "And because I saw you paint."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "You saw me paint?"

"I knew who you were from the first audition." She started to explain, her other hand coming up to trace patterns on the side of Quinn's face. "I use to see you on the street a long time ago painting. Then Jesse's show came. I would see you painting back stage but you never saw me."

"I don't understand how you seeing me paint would make you end things with Santana. I didn't even care about who you were until you almost wrecked my set."

Brittany laughed again. "Because the way you'd paint was different. You loved it like I loved dancing but it wasn't just because you loved it. Just like I started dancing more because it wasn't just because I loved it."

Quinn chewed on her lip. She remembered how unnerved she was when she knew Brittany had been watching her the one time. Thinking about how she had done it before that made her nervous.

"I didn't know you were always watching me."

"Sometimes you'd start crying," Brittany went on, flatting the furrow in Quinn's forehead. "I always wanted to cry watching you. It was like you were painting like I was dancing."

"Then you knocked over my chairs." Quinn pointed out.

"I knocked over your chairs," Brittany blushed and Quinn thought it was the most gorgeous thing ever. She had never seen her do it before.

"You did it on purpose?" Brittany nodded and Quinn laughed. "I can't believe you."

"It got your attention,"

Quinn laughed and leaned up to kiss her nose. "When did you know you had feelings for me?"

"The night you told me you were a mom." Quinn felt Brittany's heart flutter at the memory. "You cried in my arms all night and you were whispering that Rachel was gone and you had no one anymore and everyone leaves you. I cried as soon as you fell asleep."

"You cried because of me?"

She nodded. "I've never cried for someone like I cried for you. That's when I knew."

Quinn bit her lip to hold back her smile. "You knocked over my chairs."

"I did," Brittany's cheeks went pink again as Quinn climbed on top of her.

Quinn lowered herself down so her lips hovered right over Brittany's. "Thank you," She whispered, the soft touch of their lips having the same intense effect as if they were engaged in a heated kiss.

"No," She touched her cheek. "Thank you."

Brittany sat up only a fraction to smash their lips together. It was warm and thick and sensual.

What Santana had been saying before suddenly made more sense to her. While there was a Santana, Brittany had Quinn in the back of her head. While Brittany danced her woes away, Quinn's painting had pulled her in and held her interest. Santana might've harbored hidden feelings for Brittany and vice versa, but Brittany's for Quinn were budding all the same.

"Quinn…" Brittany mumbled into her mouth. The vibration of her name in Brittany's chest on hers sent chills all through Quinn.

Warm hands spread over skin and mouths left mouths to explore necks. Quinn was rendered breathless and gasping for air as Brittany's touches and caresses and kisses and looks took an even deeper turn. She didn't think she could handle it all.

Quinn had gone from being completely closed to nearly all the way open for Brittany in a couple months. It was something that took Rachel at least a year to get past and here was Brittany lifting her up and breaking chains and casting away weights like they were as light as clouds.

Then she was pierced right through the heart with so much affection Quinn didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to do because those words had never been spoken to her and been backed up with so much evidence.

And she looked for it. She locked eyes with Brittany and she searched for the smallest hint that she was pulling her leg, that she was just caught in a moment and didn't know what she was saying. There was nothing to call her bluff and because of it Quinn broke into tears.

She broke into tears and she sucked in harsh breaths to try and keep herself from seeing stars because Brittany had said,

"_I love you,"_

_Til Next Chapter  
_


	10. Chapter X

**Chapter X**

Quinn wrote her signature on the signature line of the application. She hoped working at the pet store her senior year and university jobs as well as the public library would be enough to qualify her for flipping burgers and sinking fries in oil. A glance up at Santana who was filling up two glasses of soda for her customers told her it was more than enough. She smirked and put down Rachel's dads as references.

"Here," She held out the application to Santana coming back around the bar.

She took it and glanced over it. "I told you I'd just get you in."

"That didn't seem fair,"

"Whatever," She ducked down behind the counter for a moment to put the application in a folder. "Have you ever, like, worked in a place like this?"

"I've hardly worked," She confessed, sipping her cola. "I've painted so much that it's been enough."

"So go intern at the art museum."

"What?" Her eyebrow cocked. "You don't want me working with you?"

"It would be nice to not see your face here and at home." Quinn rolled her eyes.

At home.

She should've known it would happen. It was going on a month and Santana was still staying with them. She had a feeling Santana was another Brittany. She'll come and stay for some time, get comfortable and never leave. Quinn wasn't completely sure on how she felt about that at the moment, but so far it was fine.

The only times she didn't see the girl were nights and mornings when Santana would take whoever she lured from the club back to her own apartment. Sometimes Quinn wished she'd just stay there and not come back in the mornings using up the hot water in their shower. Why couldn't she shower at her own place?

But Brittany enjoyed her company, and if Quinn had to admit, she liked having Santana around some afternoons before she went to the café. It was why she was applying there. She couldn't work with Brittany. She knew nothing about the art of dance, but what could be so hard about waiting on people?

"Do you need boxes?" Quinn asked. Santana rose a confused eyebrow at her. "To move the rest of your stuff to my apartment."

She laughed. "This is temporary, Quinn. Temporary."

"I think you and I have different ideas on what temporary means."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "Are you kicking me out?"

"No,"

"Didn't think so," A gush of wind came in from the opening door. A group of teens filtered in and walked immediately over to a booth. Santana grabbed a stack of menus. "Admit it, Quinn, you like me."

"Like is an overstatement," She bantered. "I tolerate you,"

"Just like I tolerate you being gross and lovey with Britt all the damn time."

"Jealous much?"

Santana cackled and tapped the menus on the counter. "You wish," She smirked and sauntered off to attend to the new customers.

Quinn followed her with her eyes. She had every reason to not believe her just as much as she had reason to believe her. She always saw the two around the apartment. They knew each other well. The way they were with one another was comfortable, but Quinn noticed the lighter ways Santana's hands grazed over Brittany's thigh and the less intense way she'd hug her.

"If you don't trust her, she doesn't have to stay." Brittany told her once after Quinn had come in to see Brittany with her head in Santana's lap while she ran her hands through her hair.

But Quinn shook her head and joined them in the living area watching movies until they fell asleep all sprawled on the couch and the carpet. If anything, Santana was just another Rachel that belonged there. She was Rachel to Brittany the way Rachel was to her. But it didn't stop her from wondering how the two even worked together or why they kept seeing each other before.

Santana came back from doing her last table. Quinn rested her chin on her fist, eyebrows pulled in.

"Why Brittany?" she asked.

She saw Santana's back go rigid for a moment, but the calm expression on her face when she turned around to place Quinn's fries on the bar would've given a different message.

Santana eyed her carefully, her hand moving a towel over the top of the bar. She licked across her lips slowly and sucked in a breath. "I'm out," she called back.

She rounded the counter and tugged on the sleeve of Quinn's shirt for her to follow. They settled into the billiards room. The cushions had the faintest scent of smoke and the lights above were slightly dull.

Quinn sunk onto one of the long couches. It was the longest of the others. She smoothed her hand over the cushion wondering if it was that very couch Brittany had slept on.

There was a faint clicking sound followed by a cloud of gray. Quinn watched smoke float from Santana's mouth and dissolve in the air. She shifted away from her. She didn't mind people smoking, but she hated the smell. Jesse had done it until Rachel got him to quit. She'd wash her and Rachel's clothes twice a week to keep the stench out.

Santana took another long drag, keeping her focus on Quinn. "She was good in bed,"

Quinn almost choked on a fry, earning a successful smirk. "For someone who gets screwed on a kitchen counter, you sure can't handle talk about sex."

Red filled Quinn's cheeks. "Is that such a bad thing?"

Her face twisted like she was thinking about it. She shrugged and let the smoke seep from her lips. "She came in the club a lot and I'd see her leave with people. She's hot, who wouldn't go with her?"

Quinn nodded.

"I asked her if we could hook up and she was...nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah, nice. Like friendly, kind, easy going."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Right,"

"So we had sex and I left. It happened some more. I never really go back to the same person a lot but B was different. It was like she wanted more then damn sex so I stayed and we talked."

"About?"

"Us," A stream of smoke floated from her mouth as she sighed. "How fucking pathetic we were to sleep with whoever. When she lost the apartment she stopped talking to me for a while." She laughed a humorless laugh. "It was my fault."

"I heard,"

"Mike?" She nodded. "Figures."

"We didn't really stop screwing until she went to audition for that musical or whatever." She tapped the end of the cigarette with a pinkie. The ashes drifted slowly to the floor. "She was saying something about some girl who paints or some lame shit."

"You loved her," Quinn stated and this time Santana's resolve was lost and she saw it. "Does it bother you?"

She shook her head. "It's not about how I feel about her."

Quinn cocked an eyebrow. "What is it about?"

Santana rolled her eyes and ran her hand down her face. "Beside from Matt," She started in a low voice like she wanted Quinn to hear them but wished she could keep them to herself. "She's all I got."

"That's why you haven't left."

She shrugged. Quinn watched her finish out her cigarette.

"She's so fucking in love with you, it's gross." She flicked the cigarette butt onto the hard ground. She grounded it in with her shoe.

"I'm sorry,"

"Whatever, Quinn," Santana laughed. "I told you it was cool. She's happy, so I'm happy."

"And that's it?"

She leaned over and snatched a fry from the basket cradled in Quinn's lap. "I said you don't have to worry about me."

"I trust you, Santana. I do. I just wanted to hear your side of everything." Quinn smiled. "You can stay with us, you know? Permanently."

Santana blinked. "You're serious?"

Quinn nodded, stuffing the last of the fries into her mouth. "I can't very well run you off now, can I?"

Santana laughed, sliding off the edge of the billiards table "Lets go get Britt and get to this party."

-/-/-/-

Quinn sank down into a chair, toeing off her heals. Her feet ached and she was hot and sticky, but she was having too much fun to care.

Her eyes weaved through the crowd finding Rachel where she left her dancing. Brittany had taken Quinn's place and had Rachel throwing her head back in blissful laughter and her body moving happily across the dance floor.

She was spun around by the hand and into Jesse's arms. Brittany clapped her hands and laughed as Rachel was dipped. Quinn joined in applause and threw her fist in the air and hollered as Jesse placed a sweet kiss on her lips.

"Hey," Sam said plopping down into the chair beside her. She smiled over at him, brushing his pretty boy bangs back into place that had flown around while dancing. "Wanna dance?"

She shook her head. "My feet are killing me,"

He nodded with the slightest of frown on his lips. She offered him a reassuring smile that she'd dance with him once her feet stopped throbbing.

Her attention was drawn back to the dancing group of people. All dressed up and laughing and jiving, it reminded Quinn of her senior prom and just senior prom because she skipped out on the junior one. She had wanted to skip senior prom but,

"This is our last year and our last dance together. So help me, Quinn, you are going to this prom because it is an experience that you can only have once and..." Rachel chewed on her lip while grinning shyly. "I need a date."

So Quinn went being uncomfortable for most of the time surrounded by people who used to worship the ground she walked on but would now spit in her face. Rachel distracted her for the most part but with Finn shooting her hurt scowls and Puck's vulture like stare, all she wanted to do was fade into the background.

But she was there for Rachel just like she was at the wedding party for Rachel. Neither she nor Jesse was much into bachelor or bachelorette parties so they just had a wedding party together. Quinn thought it was more fun that way.

There was a song change and Quinn turned to Sam. His cheeks went rosy at being caught staring at her but Quinn waved it off and extended her hand for him to take. He beamed and led her back to the commotion.

He was a decent dancer and all sorts of adorable with his silly moves and wannabe bad boy face, but he lacked the fluidity and the sensuality of Brittany she had fallen in love with.

Her eyes left Sam to look behind him where Brittany was dancing with Mike in a dance that looked choreographed but was all free style.

Other people around turned to watch them and Quinn turned Sam so they could watch the show going on in thee center of the floor.

People were clapping and hollering as Mike spun Brittany around then brought her back around and dipped her. She flew right back up and jumped with her legs around her his waist. He spun her around and bounced to her other side catching her as she fell back trusting his arms would be there.

Jumping in the air, Mike took hold of her waist and spun Brittany around his torso then over his shoulder, hands knowing exactly where to be placed and how much force to apply behind the move.

The way they moved was so fluid, so in synch and so graceful and easy that it was painful to watch. Him and Brittany's were like they were dancing from the soul - the same soul.

Tina bounced up and down with a massive smile on her face and her hands clapping hard for her husband. Quinn grinned at her. She loved Mike and Tina's relationship. It seemed so pure and genuine. Quinn hoped Rachel's would be just the same.

Brittany gave Mike a shove sending him over to Tina. He stopped just in front of her, taking her hands and pulled her onto the floor. At the same time, Brittany flitted in front of Quinn and held out her hands.

Quinn looked from Brittany's open mouthed grin to her hands then back to her face shaking her head.

"No, no, no," Quinn laughed. Brittany grabbed her hands and tugged. "I can't dance, Britt,"

"Yes you can,"

Quinn didn't have a chance to protest before she was whisked away again.

It wasn't the first time Brittany stole her away but most of those times had been during evenings while she made dinner and Brittany would come home from the studio still hyped from teaching. She'd pry the stirring spoon or spatula out of her hand, flip on the radio she had put in the kitchen and make Quinn dance with her.

It was all silly and embarrassing because it usually ended up with Brittany laughing sweetly at Quinn and her lack of skill. Sometimes Santana would come around and show Quinn how it was really done, taking her hips in her hands and rotating them around and loosening her out of straight arms and straight leg cheer routines.

She saw Tina and Mike bouncing around along with them and the circle laughing and clapping. She was doing hardly any of the work. Brittany did it all, pushing on her lower back so she knew when to turn and weighing one side or the other for the direction they were going.

She was caught up in it after some time, her eyes on Brittany's face that was full of giddiness like it always was when Quinn could dance with her. Even if she accidently stepped on her toes or hitched on a move, Brittany was always smiling and glowing.

Of course she would. Because Brittany had been dancing for herself for so long. She had been dancing as purely a way to attract someone to notice her and really understand her and share a passion just as much as she did. Quinn did and now she danced for Quinn and only Quinn.

Quinn panted, her chest pushing against Brittany's as she tried to catch her breath. Strong arms held Quinn in place and their faces close together. The rushing air from Brittany's nose blew her bangs.

There was clapping going on around them, but all Quinn could hear were their pulses beating rapidly. Fingertips pressed into her sides, willing Quinn up to her toes and her lips onto another pair. Heat pooled at the base of her stomach and her heart swelled. She tightened her hold on Brittany's neck trying to pull more out of her.

The nip on her lip sucked what little breath left out of her chest and Brittany's chuckle made the pulsing heat in her lower half strong.

"Do you think Rachel would mind if we left?" Quinn breathed. The music around them was soft and slow and the crowd had broken into couples swaying lazily together to a slow song.

Brittany laughed, bumping their noses together. "Ask her," She pulled away from Quinn to turn her around to face Rachel standing a couple ways away from them.

Rachel walked over to them grinning. Quinn didn't like the grin. The way it scrunched up one side of her face and her raised eyebrow made her look smug. She knew the grin and for once, Rachel was right to use it. She'd like to be away doing things with Brittany.

"May I steal her away from you for a moment?" Rachel asked, taking Quinn's wrist. Brittany nodded to her and Quinn followed Rachel off.

People dwindled out along with the music as they marched down the hall. They slipped into a restroom. Quinn rolled her eyes. It was like high school all over again when she never went to the restroom alone unless she absolutely had to.

Rachel watched her closely with that same stupid smile. Quinn pursed her lip. "I thought you could use a cool down. You know, cold water on your face or maybe a cold shower."

"Or I could leave and take care of it that way," She turned her head left to right to examine the make up on her face. She should've grabbed her handbag to touch it up.

"You will do no such thing." Rachel pointed a finger at her and disappeared behind a stall door. "You two are really adorable

Quinn fluffed up her loose curls in the mirror. "More so than you and Jesse."

"Not quite, but it is so sweet to watch it makes my teeth hurt." The toilet flushed and out came Rachel in her dress. "I can tell that you're completely infatuated with her. You trust her. Like you know if you tripped in your heels, Brittany would be there to catch you. I'm amazed."

"Sometimes, so am I," Quinn confessed, turning to lean against the sink counter. "It's weird, Rachel. She makes me feel...right."

Rachel ran her fingers through her hair, watching Quinn out the corner of her eye, "You deserve to feel that way and I don't even feel the need to give you the be careful because things could end badly and you don't want your heart to be too broken speech."

"Oh?" She snorted because she had heard Rachel give herself that speech once or twice. "Why not?"

"Because Brittany's in love with you." Rachel said like it was something everyone knew.

Quinn felt her breathing stop for a moment. Rachel smiled at her.

"I'm not surprised she hasn't told you." Rachel sidestepped away from Quinn to look at herself in the mirror. "You're like glass, Quinn. You're precious like glass and Brittany knows that. She won't say it until she knows you're ready, but then again, you won't say it either until you can let the word slip off your tongue without swallowing it."

"Rachel…"

"What?" Her eyes caught Quinn's still form and stepped back to look in her face. "What is it?"

"She's already said it."

"Oh," Rachel turned her attention back to Quinn. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. I cried." Quinn said feeling like an idiot. "It scares me, Rach. It scares me a lot."

"I know it scares you. I know how much those words mean to you and I would be freaking out if it had been someone else saying them to you but," Rachel took Quinn's face in her hands. "If there is anyone I trust aside from myself to keep you from breaking, it's Brittany."

"Why? At first you thought she was weird."

"I said she was different, not weird," Rachel let her face go, glaring. "And because of what I've seen her do to you only proves how different she is."

"I know, I know and I feel horrible for not saying it back."

"Do you love her?"

"I-I think I do," It came out in a small whisper almost too quiet for Quinn to hear them herself. She didn't think she could say them.

"I have no doubt that you do," Rachel cupped her face with a hand. Quinn sank into her palm. "Thank you for making tonight work and for all you have done for the wedding."

"Who else would've put up with you but me?"

"Must you always turn tender moments into jokes?" Rachel pinched her cheek. Quinn pulled her face away but Rachel held it in both hands. "I'm going to really miss you,"

"What do you mean?" She asked, but once they walked back into the hall she got the answer.

Quinn found place beside Brittany, threading their fingers together between them.

"Thank you everyone for coming out tonight." Started Jesse, standing up at a table. "We hope you had fun and I hope you can all make it to the wedding next week. It's been a pleasure getting to know all of you."

Rachel stood up beside him, running her arm around his waist. "And it has been more than a pleasure to spend these years here, but unfortunately me and Jesse's time down south is up."

Brittany looked over at her confused. Quinn shrugged. She didn't know.

"With Jesse landing a job as assistant director to a musical that just may make it to Broadway with his talents behind it and me in the lead role, of course," The crowd laughed softly. Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat. "We will be moving to New York at the end of this year."

Quinn sucked in a breath, looking around at all the excited and confused faces. It was happening all over again but everything felt okay. She could feel Brittany press closer into her side and Quinn rested her head on her shoulder.

"Rachel's really leaving now," She whispered over. There was a slight pang in her chest as she uttered it, but it didn't hurt as it had before. Rachel wasn't her strength anymore. She had gained it herself and the one who anchored her down was one she knew wouldn't leave.

Brittany smiled, drawing up their hands to brush Quinn's knuckles across her lips. "I'm staying,"

-/-/-/-

Quinn stepped back, head tilted to the side and the handle of her paintbrush between her teeth. She hadn't been able to sleep. She had lain in bed for a good hour before she decided to fill the dead time with something constructive.

Her eyes scanned up and down the painting she was doing as a wedding present for Rachel and Jesse. It wasn't anything fancy like a portrait. She had never been very good at painting people, but the abstract collision of color would be perfect for the soon to be wed couple's house. It could've been anything, Quinn knew, but it needed to be perfect for them. It needed to encompass all that was Rachel and Jesse and their love for one another.

Love.

Quinn dipped her brush into a glob of cyan paint. She was still struck by Brittany's words. Such a phrase as that, Quinn never used lightly. The words were always sort of sacred to her like the words of the Bible that had been dear to her for much of her life. If there was one thing her parents had taught her, it was that love was not to be taken lightly. And Quinn never did.

There had been one person aside from her parents and Rachel that she had told she loved them and that was Finn. Two of them told her it, which were Finn and Puck. Neither were enough to keep such perfect words in the realm of good things. Pucks had wrecked almost everything with one night - one stupid night of his drunkenness and her idiocy.

-/-/-/-

The buzzing wouldn't cease. She kept pushing buttons on her phone trying to get it to stop, but the buzz grew stronger and stronger. She threw her phone across the room and opened her eyes. Quinn blinked against the darkness of her room. It had been just a dream.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Or maybe it wasn't a dream.

She reached beneath her pillow for the shivering device, taking hold of it just as the buzzing ended. She was ready to put it back under her pillow and fall back to sleep, but Quinn clicked on the screen, squinting against the offending light.

Missed call after missed call after missed call blinked on the screen. She squinted even more trying to understand why the person was calling her. She thought she had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him and his threats and suggestions and accusations.

Quinn rolled her eyes and went to place the phone on the nightstand when it buzzed again. The same name flashed on the LCD. She sighed and answered in a sleep heavy voice.

"Hello?"

"Q," His voice was frantic.

"Puck?" She rolled to look at the clock mounted on the wall.

It was nearly two in the morning but that didn't matter when it was New Years. She and Rachel both had crashed right after they watched the ball drop and the Berry men grabbed them in a conga line around the house.

She rubbed some sleep from her eyes. "Do you know what time it is? Why are you calling me?"

"I need to talk to you,"

"Why?"

He was quiet for a long moment. Quinn looked at her phone to see if he had hung up. She heard the crank of a gearshift.

"Come outside,"

"No,"

"Come on, Fabray." He said a little lighter. Quinn could hear the slur in his voice. Of course he had spent the entire night drinking with his buddies. "Just let me talk to you real quick."

"I'm in bed, Puckerman,"

"Throw some pants on,"

There was the open and shut of a door. Quinn groaned and slipped from the covers, searching in the dim glow of a nightlight for her sweats and a coat.

"Q?"

"Give me a sec," She hissed and hung up.

She put her feet into a pair of shoes and slipped out of her room. She stood in front of Rachel's with her hand clasping the knob. It was late and Puck was drunk. She didn't need to be going outside speaking with him alone. Not when he was in the state he was. She probably shouldn't even be agreeing to talk to him.

She could see it now: Rachel fussing at her over breakfast about how foolish she was for going outside to talk to him alone. Even the Berry men would give her terse glances and frowned lips. None were very fond of Noah Puckerman, but Quinn had dealt with a drunk Puck before and so she bounced down the stairs and swung open the door.

He was standing at the end of the porch with his hands in his pockets. He swung around to look at her and closed the distance between them as Quinn closed the door behind her.

"Hey," His mouth pulled back into a grin.

He lowered himself down going to place a kiss on her cheek. Quinn gave a shallow gasp and put a firm hand on his chest to hold him back. His eyes flashed with a sort of angry rejection. Quinn could see how glossy they looked. How much had he been drinking?

"What is it?" She whispered into the night, pulling her arms around her tighter. It was freezing.

"Lets go," He jerked his head towards his old, beat up car. Most would laugh and mock him for the hunk of junk, but the girls fawned over Puck and his clanky car like they would a celebrity in a lambrequin.

"Go where?"

"Find those greedy punks who stole our daughter."

Quinn sighed. "Puck, no one stole her. I gave her away."

His brow knitted in. "You're her mother,"

"I was," She shook her head. "I was and I might be but I'm not her mom."

"We could raise her,"

"No we couldn't." She gave a mirthless laugh. "What are you thinking? Get it through that thick skull of yours. We're not getting her back and I don't want to raise any child with you. Ever."

The thin line of his lips dropped to a frown. "Why?"

Quinn shook her head, running her hand over her face. There was no use talking to him while he was drunk. She'd try it again when he was in his right sate of mind.

"I'm going inside," She turned to go.

"Wait," He grabbed her fast and spun her into him. She fell into his chest and hardly had time to suck air back into her lungs when his lips were on hers.

She could taste of beer on his tongue and the remnants of another mouth of a person he had probably swayed into bed just like he had done to her just a year ago. It made her sick. It mad her want to vomit.

Quinn made to push away from him, but he pulled away before she could make the effort. He licked his lips and Quinn wiped hers off with the sleeve of her coat, tongue ready to shoot foul words at him but his cut her off.

"I love you,"

Quinn caught her breath in her throat. In his hazy eyes she saw a moment of sobriety and the truth of his confession. It pained her to the core. Those words meant nothing to her. She had never loved him, not how she did Finn and she wasn't even sure about that. Not how she had cheated on him and played tricks around his head.

"I'm sorry," She muttered and like a wall, she watched Puck crumble inside of himself.

His fist clenched at his sides and his jaw tightened and loosen as he stared her down. The split second of vulnerability she had soon slowly faded away back into the scorching intensity she had seen when he showed up.

"Fine," He said through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry," She said to his back as he turned and stepped down off the porch.

She felt tears trying to form in her eyes and her chest give a squeeze. She hurt for a moment as her mind reeled back for the thousandth time on the possibility of her having her daughter still. Would she give into Puck and allow him in? Would she be with Rachel or would she be living with Puck like a disjointed family? Would Puck be as good as a father as she imagined he could be?

They were questions she asked herself too often. But they died quick and were buried even deeper when she saw him double back and rush her.

"You can't do this!"

She didn't have a second to process his hands shoving her backwards into the door. Her skull banged against the glass of the door window. She winced and tried pushing up from it, but his hands were gripping her shoulders and holding her back against the wood.

He was screaming at her. Saying things about Finn and his kid and betrayal or something. Quinn hardly heard him through the throbbing pain in the back of her head and the painful way his fingers dug into her skin. She knew there would be bruises.

She tried moving her arms to push him off. She was choking on the smell of alcohol pressing into her face as he yelled at her. It was thick, heavy and suffocating. She couldn't breath through her tears. Her heart was beating up in her throat.

All she could see were his blazing eyes, glassed over and cutting. She had never been afraid of Puck. She knew he could get angry. Finn used to get upset a lot, but Quinn could always handle Finn's tantrums. Kicked over chairs were different than punches. But Quinn had never been on the receiving end of his rage.

"Come on," He spat and yanked her by the wrist, snatching her from the door and off the porch.

"Puck, let me go!" She yelled, clawing at his hand that wrung her wrist.

She tugged her hand hard and she almost lost her footing, but the passenger side door caught her fall. The locks popped and she pulled, tugged, beat tried to get out of his hands and not allow him to throw her into his car.

"Puck!"

"Quinn!" Rachel's voice came piercing through the night. "Daddy!"

Quinn felt herself be pushed down into the seat just as a hand grabbed her and yanked her out. She stumbled and almost fell onto Rachel, but she kept her up and ran them back towards the house.

Leroy came burling down the stairs, catching Puck who had weaseled out of Hiram's arms and was darting up the sidewalk to get back to Quinn.

Rachel kicked the door with her foot. Quinn saw Leroy restrain Puck's arms behind his back and Hiram start yelling threats in his face just before the door slammed shut.

"Quinn, what were you thinking going out there alone?" She said frantically, stroking Quinn's hair as she slinked down to the floor and cried into her knees.

"I don't know," Quinn sobbed, clenching hard onto Rachel. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"

"It's okay, Quinn. You're okay,"

-/-/-/-

Her arm moved for a can of pale blue and Quinn stopped before she ruined the gift with colors of her mind. Somewhere in her room she found a blank slab of wood and put it beside the large canvas and started to dish everything out.

It scared her and made her erupt with feelings all at once. The latter because Brittany had been so genuine, but she was scared because, either way it went, love bit her in the butt and left her hanging out alone and barren.

Yet, everything in her ignited at the confession. She'd lie in bed at night while Brittany slept and would shiver when she heard Brittany's voice fill her mind like it had done. It was all breathy, coming from a deep place in her chest and laced with a passion that made Quinn feel like she was drifting on warm water and being compressed softly by clouds.

"Quinn?"

Her hand stilled just over the canvas and she turned over her shoulder to see Brittany standing at the frame of the hall.

"Hey," Quinn smiled, bringing down her arm.

Brittany frowned, head titled to the side. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not-" She ran her hand over her face. It came away damp. "Oh," She laughed uneasily.

Brittany pushed off the frame and strode across the floor. With a thumb, she brushed off a stray tear, kissing the arching bone of her cheek. "Why were you crying?"

"I was thinking,"

Her eyes bounced to the painting. "About what?"

There were new colors Brittany hadn't seen much of. Of course there were pale blues and yellows. Even the orangey red of Santana and bits of Rachel were speckled throughout.

She turned to look at it herself. Deep green came into the mix so dark and so blended into black paint you could hardly tell it was green unless in the light. It had been a long time since she had painted Puck. It had been a long time since she allowed herself to remember those things.

"It doesn't matter," She sighed, slipping her arms around Brittany to pull her in. She rested her head on her chest and clung tighter still once Brittany encircled her with her arms.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Puck shouldn't matter anymore. None of that should."

"He hurt you,"

"And I hurt him,"

"But you're still hurt by him." Brittany pulled back to look down into hazel. "It matters."

"I was so scared that night." She sighed deeply and pulled her head up to look at Brittany. "I didn't know what he was going to do to me."

"But he didn't,"

"No he didn't,"

Brittany kissed her hair and pulled away. She picked up a paintbrush and dipped it into her blue and walked over to the canvas. In one unsteady stroke, she washed pale blue over the green, going back and forth over it until the paint was used up. She dipped for more and did it again.

Quinn stood back watching the blue swirl into the deep green. Dropping the brush, Brittany sank her hand in then dipped the other deep into the paint and slapped them onto the surface. Specks of paint flew back, hitting her on the cheeks but she didn't pay any mind.

Drops fell onto the floor in giant globs and onto the pale white of Brittany's feet.

Quinn gasped when she felt a drop hit her cheek. "Britt, you don't..."

She peered over her shoulder with piercing blue eyes. Quinn stayed still as Brittany paced around her and took one wrist between her dirty fingers. Brittany eased her forward and sunk both of their hands into a blot of yellow paint.

Like Quinn's hand was her paintbrush, Brittany touched her fingertips to the canvas and dragged it across before sinking her entire palm onto the surface. Quinn's hand slid easily across the board. Her eyes followed the back and forth patterns Brittany was doing with her hand, watching the yellow go from bright and vibrant to a tainted brown to black.

It all ran together in a disgusting blob of black. The deep greens were gone and the oranges were no more. The reds were now hidden away and the yellow and blues were no longer present.

"There," Brittany said from behind her. She took both of Quinn's wrists in her hands giving one last erasing stroke of her palms. "It's all gone."

"It's not that easy," She found herself saying. Slowly, she turned around in Brittany's arms feeling the skin of her wrist go cold as Brittany's hands left them.

"It's a start," She blinked from the paints then back to Quinn. "He can't hurt you anymore. Look,"

Brittany took her hands again and pressed them to yellow paint so every inch was covered. She let them go and dirtied her own hands with the blue that Quinn had picked out for her in the first days of their meeting. She had been right to pick the color. It embodied everything that was Brittany.

And as she threaded her fingers into Brittany's and watched the yellow ooze into blue, all she could think about were peaceful and calm, clear days sitting in the park under the sky with the sun beating down on her face. In those moments she had felt like nothing else in the world had mattered and she had sunk into her own sort of paradise and nothing could touch her.

"It's just you and me," Brittany spoke into the darkness of the room. "No one else," Her eyes flicked back to the black canvas then back to Quinn. "Just us,"

Quinn could feel the smile on Brittany's lips as their mouths were pressed together in a warm kiss. She tightened her hold on Brittany's hands, holding her in place and letting the paint absorb into her pores and flow through her, taking away the uneasiness and the hurt and the fright of everyone else's colors that had been pumping through her veins until it was just them.

"I love you, Quinn,"

Quinn felt her body shiver and tense. "Brittany, I…" She could feel the word bubble up from her chest and get hitched in her throat like a lump.

Smiling, Brittany took her face in her hands. "You don't have to say it back." Her forehead sunk down to rest on Quinn's, her eyes staring straight into hers. "I know,"

"I do," She whispered back, running her hands behind Brittany's back to pull her closer.

Her lips touched the space between Quinn's eyes. "I know,"

Quinn blinked away to the board once again only for Brittany to turn her head back around with a finger. "Just us,"

"Just us," She nodded letting Brittany take her by the hand and lead them to their room.

_Til Next Chapter_


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter XI**

"I cannot believe this,"

Quinn grinned and rolled her eyes as she shimmed Rachel's dress up over her hips and around her torso and zipped it up. From the morning when Quinn picked her up to the time they finished their hair and eased into their attire, Rachel had repeated the same sentence over and over again.

"Believe it, Rach," Quinn answered back as she had done the whole day. She ran her hand down the back of the dress to smooth out the silky fabric.

Standing up straight she looked over Rachel's shoulder to eye them both in the wall mirror. Jesse's mom was in the back corner helping one of Rachel's cousins into her flower girl dress while Brittany put a dash of pink eye shadow on Tina.

Her eyes studied them all, landing back on Rachel last. She had to admit, she could hardly believe it herself. It was like the other day she was in high school convincing Rachel that some boys were a waste of time to chase after and now she was helping her get married to a man that was more of Rachel's equal than anyone she had dated before.

"You look beautiful," Quinn whispered, running her fingers up the side of Rachel's hair to smooth out a tiny bump in her do.

Rachel smiled, reaching back to squeeze Quinn's other hand. "Thank you," She said back. "For everything."

She pressed her lips to Rachel's shoulder. "Thank _you_ for everything,"

Turning around, she wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck holding her tight. Brittany and Tina smile happily over at them.

"Is everything ready?" Rachel asked letting her go. Brittany came over to guide Rachel down into a chair to apply her make up.

Quinn nodded as she slipped in one of her earrings. "Last I checked, the ushers have everything in control." She slid her feet into a pair of heels. "But I'm going to go check."

"Please do," Rachel said. "I want this wedding to go perfect."

"And it will," Quinn rolled her eyes from the door just before slipping out.

The taps of her heels bounced of the walls to join the voices of the crowd of people in the hall foyer. Her eyes scanned the place checking up on the ushers who were assigned to pass out programs and to take guests coats.

She picked out a few relatives of Rachel's she had met at the few family reunions she had attended with them and offered smiles and waves. A couple people from the show stopped her to praise her for all she had done to decorate the hall.

"Miss Fabray," One of the ushers tapped her on the shoulder. "We're ready to open the doors to let in the guest."

"Go ahead, we're almost ready,"

The usher nodded to her then waved a signal to the ones at the door to allow the crowd in.

"You'd think the girl was a celebrity or something with all these people here." Santana hissed from behind her.

Whipping around, Quinn cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't coming until the reception."

She shrugged and ran a hand through her dark hair. "I got bored waiting around the apartment."

Quinn laughed. "I'm glad you came,"

"Oh, please," She snorted, waving a hand in the air and followed the last few people into the hall.

Once the doors were closed, Quinn doubled back to check in each room to make sure the rest of the wedding party were ready before she pulled them all into the foyer to begin the ceremony.

"Are you ready?" Quinn asked doing a once over of Rachel's dress, hair and make up. She was simply breathtaking all draped in white.

Rachel nodded excitedly. "I am so ready,"

"We're very proud of you, Rae," Hiram Berry said pinching her cheek.

Leroy draped an arm around her shoulders to pull her in. He kissed her softly on the cheek. "Don't forget your dads when you're big and famous, okay?"

Rachel bit her lip and nodded, eyes blinking to keep back the tears that were starting to wield up in her eyes.

"Is everyone ready?" One of the ushers by the door asked. Everyone glanced at one another nodding. He gave a terse nod and sent a signal to an usher on the inside of the hall.

"Are you ready?" Brittany asked and Quinn nodded receiving a quick kiss on the cheek.

The music in the hall began.

"Congratulations, Rach," Quinn beamed. Rachel returned it just as the doors cracked open.

All heads inside turned towards the entrance. Quinn felt a wave of nervousness pass over her as she watched Jesse's parents filter through the doors. Cameras flashed left and right and family members did tiny waves and smiled as they passed them.

"Quinn?"

She blinked up to Jesse's older brother who was The Best Man. He grinned down at her with just as brilliant of a smile as the younger St. James. Quinn placed her hand in the bend of his elbow and smiled.

She walked in tempo with the music, a grin stretching across her face and eyes forward. All she cared about was not tripping in the high heels that Rachel had practically demanded her to wear.

"I'm going to break my ankles then crack my neck on the fall in these things." Quinn had grumbled, glaring down at Brittany who was buckling the stray around her ankle at the shoe store.

They got to the front of the aisle and Quinn started to pull off but the boy held her back for a second to whisper, "Dance with me at the reception?"

Quinn stifled a laugh, nodded to his pretty boy wink and split to stand at the top step on the left side of the platform.

From the top, Quinn watched Tina walk down the aisle on the arm of another one of Jesse's siblings or cousins or friend. She didn't care to differentiate. They all looked the same with their pretty eyes and gleaming grins. They looked like a bunch of frat boys if Quinn had to describe them.

Tina climbed up behind Quinn and both turned to watch Brittany come in.

Quinn nearly fell off the step watching the girl walk through the doors. She was smiling with such an illuminated grin, Quinn thought the entire hall would go blind from it. Her legs moved her gracefully across the carpet with her baby pink dress whipping around her ankles like sheets in the wind.

She caught Quinn's eye and her smile turned shy, accompanied by a tiny blush. Quinn bit her lip and gave her a wink that only made her blush even deeper.

"Save your excitement for the bride," Tina hissed jokingly behind her. Quinn chanced a glare back at her.

She looked back down the aisle watching Brittany make the rest of the way up and to her place when her eyes caught a pair in the crowd staring directly at her.

Quinn blinked. She blinked again and again. There was no way that _he _would be there. He shouldn't be there and didn't belong there. He wasn't a friend of Rachel's and he was only an ulcer in Quinn's stomach.

His mouth lifted at one corner in a sideways smile. Quinn felt an array of emotions go through her at it. It had been years since she'd seen that smile - that smirk. She never wanted to see it again. Not directed at her and not in this new place where her life had finally begun to look up.

But as the crowd rose to welcome in a beaming Rachel Berry flanked by her two dads, Noah Puckerman rose along with them.

-/-/-/-

"Hey, ma," He greeted.

"Don't call me that." Quinn bristled. She felt Brittany tighten her arm on her waist.

Puck shrugged and turned to Rachel. "Hey, Berry,"

"It's St. James now, Noah." She smiled. "I'm glad you and Finn could make it."

He shrugged loosely with that stupid crooked smile on his face all the while. "Why wouldn't I? Us Jews gotta support each other."

Quinn rolled her eyes. He was still a teenager just trapped in an older body.

"I suppose," Rachel turned to Finn who was hiding behind his friend. "Finn,"

"Hey, Rach," He waved awkwardly. "Uh, congratulations."

"Thank you,"

Puck slapped Finn in the chest with the back of his hand. "Lets go congratulate the lucky bastard who swept short stack here off her feet."

"That's Puck?" Brittany asked, watching Quinn closely.

"That's Puck," Her eyes were still on him and his old school friend. He slapped Jesse's hand like they were old bros. "You invited them?" Quinn wheeled around on Rachel.

"I invited Finn," Rachel clarified. "He didn't tell me he was going to bring Noah with him."

"They're, like, attached at the hip. Did you really think the whole baby drama would keep them from becoming friends again? How didn't you know he'd bring him?"

"Quinn, I'm sorry. I really am, but I didn't know. Neither of us really knew if they had stayed friends all these years." Rachel sighed at Quinn's eye roll. "I honestly didn't. If you'd like I can ask him to leave."

Quinn shook her head, frustrated. "That means Finn has to leave and you invited him."

"So what do you want me to do?" Rachel asked, throwing her arms up.

Brittany brushed a thumb against Quinn's side and she felt herself calm down a tad. "I don't even understand why you invited Finn." She said quietly.

"We were in glee club together, if you don't remember, and probably the closest thing I had to calling a friend before you came along." She sighed. "I thought it would be nice, you know? We talk every once in a while. I thought it rude not to invite him."

"You could've invited anyone. You pick Finn. _Finn._"

"Quinn, you're only upset because he brought Puckerman."

Her teeth gritted together. "Quinn," Brittany tugged her closer. "It'll be okay. I'll be with you."

"You have Brittany. You'll be okay." Rachel jutted her chin over to the dancer holding securely onto her best friend. "But if it really does make you that uncomfortable, I will ask them both to leave."

Quinn turned to see the two boys talking with some of the groomsmen then wondered over to the two Berry men to congratulate them. She blinked a few times to wash away the film from her eyes that was only allowing her to see the two high school boys she had once been with.

Past regrets, broken promises and deceiving words sprang into her mind. But that was nearly seven years ago and Quinn was in a different place. That was nearly seven years ago and Puck and Finn were older. That was nearly seven years ago and things like that, she had already been slowly letting go.

Quinn turned over to Rachel. "Let them stay."

Rachel smiled slowly. "Are you sure?" Quinn nodded and Rachel turned to Brittany. "Keep her calm, okay?"

Brittany grinned and nodded, leaning down to kiss the top of Quinn's head. With that, Rachel went off to speak with all the people who were waiting to speak with her.

Quinn groaned and spun around to face Brittany. "You okay?" Brittany asked.

Quinn nodded and glanced over her shoulder once more. Puck was talking animatedly to Mike while Finn stood by him looking more than awkward and out of place.

"It's just been so long," She said more to herself. "I never expected to see them again. Not here."

"I know," Brittany pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

Quinn took in a deep breath to soak up Brittany's scent. It sank deep inside of her. It pulled her head out of her high school years and into her years of being with Rachel and more so into the time she had come across Brittany. What happened before, what happened back in Lima, couldn't touch her anymore.

"Stay with me?" She asked sheepishly, needing that bit of strength she knew Brittany would provide her.

Brittany removed a strand of stray hair from her face. "Always," She brushed her lips across Quinn's cheekbone.

She looked back inside.

Both boys were talking to the Berry men. She could see the tightness in Hiram's face as he spoke to Puck and the way Leroy kept switching his eyes between Puck, Finn and Quinn every once in a while. Rachel joined them talking and Quinn figured she was explaining the situation.

Hiram looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Quinn nodded and he echoed it, finally taking Puck's hand in a handshake and gave Finn a good slap on the back.

"Can we get away from here?" She asked, turning away.

It was all too much. As if her parents popping up out of nowhere hadn't been enough, bring her ex boyfriend and the father of the baby she gave away. It was like on, big soap opera.

Brittany nodded and took her hand.

They left the buzzing crowd and entered the elevator that took them up to the ballroom where the reception was held. People rushed left and right putting the last minute touches on tables and lighting candles.

Quinn stepped inside awestruck by the decorations. She had seen it the previous day, but everything looked magnificent lit up by the golden hue of the candles and the accent of the pinks against the silvers.

"Put it down, blondie. I can do this." Santana's voice coasted across the room. "Go put some lemon juice on your roots or something."

Brittany led Quinn over to where Santana was setting up the last of her DJ equipment. Sam was crouched on the floor with a cord in his hand, staring up at Santana worried and confused. Brittany smiled at him and ruffled his hair like he was a little puppy.

"Everything okay?"

Santana grumbled something intangible. She snatched the cord out of Sam's hand and rounded around to plug it into a socket. Suddenly, the hall was filled with loud, dance music. The jazz band that was set up on the stage across the way turned and glared and complained at her.

Quinn caught Santana's hand before she could throw her rude gesture at them.

"Everything's fine," She flicked off the tunes and ducked down to grab a water bottle that Quinn knew very well, even if it was clear, didn't have water in it. "Where's everyone? I'm starving."

They turned towards the doors of the ballroom. A few people from the wedding came trickling in. They took to a table and set down their things. After them came a few more. Quinn chewed on her lip watching them all look about the room with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

Setting everything up hadn't been easy in the slightest. There were late nights spent up in the ballroom on the days leading up to the wedding. Sam would bring them Chinese take out and they'd flick on some music and get to work. Some of the other tech members that had been apart of Jesse's show came and helped her as well. Still, it had taken a long time.

Quinn craned her neck back to look at everything once again. Silvers and pinks sprang up into her face. A few golds were here and there but the way Sam had rigged some of the lighting, it had turned a lot of the golden furnishing into a pale gray that sparkled just as well as the silver.

The crowd inside of the hall grew steadily bigger and the jazz band began to play. People who hadn't attended the wedding joined the ones who had. Quinn felt a little bad for cutting so many people off the guest list. The ballroom was big enough for however many people wanted to invite. Though, Quinn knew she only wanted so many because Rachel liked everything big.

"Couldn't wait for the toast?" Quinn nodded over to Santana who was drinking from her water bottle.

Santana feigned confusion. "Whatever do you mean, Q? Would you like me to get dehydrated and not be able to provide your music for you? I have to make it through this thing somehow."

She took a long gulp of whatever it was she was drinking and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Can we get in line before the food gets cold?" Santana snapped.

"There's Mike and Tina," Brittany pointed out.

The trio went to join the couple in the line for food and fell into the table that had their spots reserved.

Quinn fidgeted in her seat, glancing over her shoulder. Puck and Finn grabbed plates of food and walked to a table near to the back.

"Paranoid much?" Santana muttered.

"Are you sure you're okay with them being here, Quinn?" Hiram asked.

"It's fine," Quinn whipped her head back around to face her table. All eyes were on her. "Rachel wanted Finn to come and neither of us knew he would bring Puck along with him."

Leroy furrowed his brow. "We can ask them to leave."

Quinn shook her head, dropping her eyes to the plate of food in front of her. It shouldn't matter. She needed to get over it. That was then and now was now. She couldn't go the rest of her life avoiding the people of her past. There would come a time she'd have to see their faces again.

They were older now, far removed from the terrible days of high school that had been both pleasant but painful for Quinn. One night with them around wouldn't be nearly as disastrous as those three years. Nothing could ever be as disastrous as those three years.

"No," She pushed on a smile and turned to look at each pair of eyes. "It's okay."

-/-/-/-

Jonathan St. James spun Quinn around. She laughed, falling into his chest that vibrated with his own deep laugh. He steadied her on her feet, pushing strands of blonde hair out of her face.

"I told you I can't dance," She found her balance and smoothed down her dress.

He laughed, running a hand through his curls. "Did a hell of a lot better than me."

They shared another laugh. It was true. Jonathan might be just as glamorous as his younger brother, but he lacked the talent of him. Brittany's faces and giggles as well as Mike's glances at them told her that they had probably looked like fools trying to dance together. At least with Brittany, Quinn could pretend she knew what she was doing.

Jonathan sobered from his laugh. "Thank you for the dance,"

"If you can call that a dance,"

The voice spilt down her back with the burn of acid but with the chill of ice running down her spine. Her jaw clenched as she turned to Puck.

"From what I remember, you could hardly do any better." She said, acidly.

He gave a forced smile and turned to Jonathan. "Mind if I steal her?"

Steal.

Quinn's mind flashed to that night. That night his hands had shoved her, had bruised her, had pulled her along. He was going to steal her then. There were times Quinn wondered what would've happen if Rachel hadn't come outside. The alcohol in his system would've turned the night black for them both.

Jonathan nodded and Quinn almost reached out to keep him from going.

"Another dance later?" He flashed a pleasing smile.

Quinn nodded, swallowing hard. "Of course,"

He nodded to her then to Puck before walking off.

Quinn zeroed in on him. "I'm not dancing with you,"

"You don't have to," He stepped back, dropping his hands that were about to land on her waist.

She looked over his shoulder to see Brittany watching them closely. "Then what do you want?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Go," Her arms crossed over her chest. She watched as Brittany rose from her seat and began her way towards them. "Talk."

Puck shook his head. He ducked down to whisper, "In private?"

"Is something wrong?" Brittany threaded a protective arm around Quinn's waist pulling her tight.

Puck looked from the possessive arm, up to Quinn who wouldn't meet his eyes then over to Brittany.

"Just wanna talk to Quinn real fast." He said to Brittany. Her eyebrow creased and he rolled his eyes. "Right outside the door. Cool with you?"

Brittany washed over him with her eyes before dropping them down to Quinn. "Quinn?" She nodded.

"Fine," She pulled out of Brittany's arm right after she kissed her softly on the mouth. Quinn saw Puck's eyebrows shoot up then quickly fall.

She fell into step behind him as he weaved them through the mass of people. A few people she remembered from the show stopped to compliment her on the ballroom. She could feel the eyes of the Berry men and Rachel on her back as she hit the outer lines and headed for the door. She turned over her shoulder to smile for assurance that she was okay.

Puck stopped them on the far side of the wall where it was quieter. They both looked inside to find Brittany sitting at a table watching them closely.

Puck cleared his throat. "I've been in contact with the people that adopted Beth."

"Beth?" She choked out a laugh. "They kept the name Beth?"

"Elizabeth is her full name." He deadpanned. "I never see her in person or anything, but they give me pictures and stuff and I thought you might like to see what our daughter looks like now."

"First off, she's not _our _daughter. She's there's." She said with the attitude she once commanded with during the days of polyester, cheer uniforms and tight ponytails and curls. "And I gave her away. Why would I want to see her?"

He shrugged. "Because I thought the same thing, but I was still curious." Digging into the inside pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a folded envelope. "Take it. If you ever decide that you want to see what she looks like then open it."

Cautiously, Quinn reached out and took the envelope. She held it between her fingers like she was holding glass. "Thank you,"

"Yeah," He ran a hand over his head. Though the mohawk wasn't there, Quinn could still see it. "You probably don't want us hangin' around, so me and Hudson are gonna get out of here."

"You don't…" She bit her lip. It was too weird feeling as at ease that she did. With Brittany there, she didn't feel as anxious as she had at the beginning. "You don't have to go."

"It's cool. They don't have any beer here and one glass of toasting Champaign is not going to be enough to get me ready for all the clubs downtown."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Quinn's lips. "How long are you here for?"

"We're flying out tomorrow afternoon."

"Be safe and have Finn drive you to the airport." She warned. "I know he won't have a hangover."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you too." He laughed, waving a dismissing hand in the air. Quinn was surprised to hear her own, soft laugh complimenting his.

He sobered from the laugh and Quinn saw him shrink just a little. It was rare to ever see Puck come down from his high horse and look as vulnerable as he was presenting himself to Quinn at that moment. She felt a flicker of nervousness flutter in her chest.

"Blondie you've got-"

"Brittany," She corrected.

"-Better take good care of you," His eyes dropped away from hers for a moment to focus on a spot behind her. "'cause God knows I didn't."

"Puck," she frowned, "I know it's taken me until recently to even start to let it go, but we were in high school."

"Almost seven years of guilty feelings is a little hard to get rid of." His fist bumped against her shoulder. Quinn gasped. She didn't jump or flinch or move away. "See you at the ten year reunion?"

She coughed out a laugh watching him build himself back up. "I'll think about it."

He grinned down at her, and Quinn found herself smiling back. "See you, Fabray,"

"Bye, Puck,"

Spinning on his heel, Puck walked back towards the reception to gather Finn away from where he was standing dumbfounded by the punch bowl. Both boys threw their hands up in a wave as they headed out of the ballroom and out of the door.

"You okay?" Long arms wrapped around the front from behind. Brittany's chin rested on her shoulder. Quinn could smell the vanilla fragrance of her chapstick.

Quinn covered Brittany's hands with hers over her stomach. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting the whole encounter sink in. Was she okay?

"Yes," She answered after a moment. "I'm Fine."

Brittany kissed her cheek as she pulled away to stand in front of her. She tapped on the envelope. "What's in that?"

"A picture of my daughter." She said shocking herself yet again. It felt weird and wrong in her mouth to say. "He's been in contact with the family who adopted her."

"Oh,"

"He doesn't talk to her or anything, but they give him pictures. He thought I'd want to see what she looks like now."

"Open it,"

"I don't think I can," She said quickly, getting that rush of nervous butterflies again.

Brittany cupped her hands over Quinn's that clutched tightly onto the envelope. "I'll help you."

She slowly began to nod her head, then quickly started to shake it. "Not without Rachel," Brittany smiled

Splitting off, Brittany bounced over to the dining area and tapped Rachel on the shoulder. In a couple minutes, they were both walking through the tables, across the dance floor and out into the hall where Quinn was standing.

She took them to the end of the hall, farthest away from the noise and stopped in one of the corners. Brittany came up behind her, holding her again while Rachel stood at her side looking just as anxious, nervous and excited as Quinn felt.

"Are you ready?" Rachel asked, unfolding the envelope in Quinn's hands.

She nodded and let Rachel and Brittany get the envelope open and pull out the photo.

All thee girls gasped when they saw the little five-year-old girl smiling up at them in the picture.

She had blonde hair, bright, silky blonde hair brighter than Brittany's with deep brown eyes close to Rachel's with little specks of hazel dotting the irises. Her smile was smug like Puck's but tugged at her wide eyes in a sweet sort of way that was all Quinn.

"She's pretty," Brittany said.

"Just like her mother," Rachel put in, grinning at the picture.

The arms around her tightened and Rachel brushed her fingers across Quinn's cheek. When had she started to cry?

"And that smile," Quinn laughed through the tears that started to flow even more. "She's going to be just as troublesome as Puck."

"But sweet like you." Rachel put the photo back into the envelope and Quinn took it from her, holding it close to her chest. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Quinn answered honestly.

She wasn't sure how she felt. She felt a lot of things. She felt warm and safe in the arms of Brittany and she felt appreciated and supported by Rachel. She felt loved and cared about and protected by them both and empty. Empty?

Her shoulders shook and Brittany came around to pull her into a hug. Rachel threw her arms around her from the side, both girls rubbing her back and speaking kind words that things would be okay to her. But that wasn't it.

She was okay and that's why she was crying. She was okay and that was why she felt empty. She felt empty because she didn't feel all the pressure of her past pushing against her. She felt empty because when she closed her eyes she didn't see images of parents who didn't want her. She felt empty because all the weights she had been carrying on her shoulders were no more.

She felt empty because she was free.

And in that emptiness she was being filled with love and compassion and worth and forgiveness and care and being wanted. It dripped off of Brittany and Rachel and rained down on the desert inside of her that brought her back to life - life that she had been missing out on and hadn't been living because her mind was still stuck years back.

"Quinn?" Brittany drew back from her and Rachel brought her head up.

Rachel's eyebrow cocked. "Are you laughing?"

"Yes," She laughed even with tears still coming down her face, streaking her make up. "I'm okay."

Brittany beamed and drew her into a kiss that knocked her off kilter, but Rachel's tight embrace around her kept her from keeling over.

Their cries of happiness filled the silence as they held onto each other in hall. The sounds of the reception going on hit Quinn's ears and she remembered that Rachel was now married and would be gone with her loving husband to New York for the second time in her life in a couple of weeks to finally obtain her goal.

The sounds of Brittany's sniffles and tiny giggles hit Quinn's ears and she remembered that Brittany, her loving, warm and security that was Brittany, was staying and loved every part of her flaws and imperfections and all. The sounds of their hearts beating together hit Quinn's ears and she remembered that they were living, striving and living. Living in the present.

She was no longer stuck in her past.

This was the present.

And Brittany…

Quinn squealed as she was swept off her feet and cradled in strong arms against Brittany's chest. Latching her arms around her neck, Quinn nuzzled her face into the place just beneath her chin, breathing in the wonderful scent that was the blonde as she carried her up the stairs and into the apartment.

Quinn got ready to get down, but Brittany held her tight leading them into their room. Cushion pressed into her back as she was laid down onto the mattress. Her arms stayed around Brittany's neck as she climbed over her with her legs on either side of Quinn's body.

She leaned down to take up her lips with hers. Quinn sighed into the gentle caress of their mouth on one another's. She shifted, scooting up until she lay the length of the bed and Brittany laid flush against her.

Brittany left her mouth to trail down her cheek and over her neck while her hands slid along Quinn's bare arms leaving traces of electric heat on her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as Brittany's mouth found her pulse point just below her ear and sucked. Quinn slid her hands from around Brittany's neck to cup her face in her palms.

She held her face above her own so she could look into the beautiful seas that were washing over her. They were soft and calm, full of desire to take them on a heated journey, but were full of patience and gentle passion that would make the moment more than a fleeting moment.

She brushed her fingers over the arch of Brittany's eyebrow and down her nose and over her lips all the while never breaking eye contact.

They were stuck, suspended in a realm where there was nothing more but them and all else had faded away. All was still around them yet everything was raging within her.

Her heart pattered against Brittany's and their chests pushed together with each deep, quick breath. Her stomach was a blissful aching storm of things she had never felt, of things she had never thought she would feel and of a feeling she had never expressed or felt in the way she did with this woman – with Brittany.

She blinked her eyes to break the motionlessness. Her heart swelled up almost choking her, almost forcing the words out of her.

"I love you," The words fell off her lips like a foreign language and as soft as she would utter a bedside prayer.

"I love you," She said again.

A blinding smile stretched across Brittany's face, and in her eyes were warm tears. She leaned down, giving Quinn a long, deep kiss; a kiss that knocked all the air, all the sense, and all the thought from Quinn's mind.

"I love you, Quinn," Brittany said in midst of the kiss, and Quinn felt her heart explode and the tears streaming from Brittany's eyes mixing in with her own that seeped out from her closed lids.

"I love you,"

Brittany was her future.

_fin. _

_AN: I want to thank all of you who have stuck with this from beginning to end and all of your kind reviews. I'm glad you all enjoyed it. Many, many thanks._

_Tuesday__


End file.
